Tales of the Hunt
by AlexaVolta
Summary: A coming-of-age story about Tarzan and Jane's daughter, Tora, set in the deep Gabonese jungle around 1925. Reviews and critique extremely welcome!
1. Chapter 1

"_I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior._" - Hippolyte Taine

"_He who plays with a cat must bear her scratches._" - Arabian Proverb

There is a point at which silence reaches a point so absolute, so utterly empty, that it becomes deafening. At such a time it is tempting to just cry out, if just for the reassurance that one's hearing remains intact. Silence like this had descended through the thick atmosphere of leaf and tree and steamy smog into the labyrinthine abyss that was the deep jungle.

For she, though, hidden in stillness and blackness and quiet, there was no desire to cry out. She cursed even her own breathing which may now betray her life. She, who had contorted herself to match the twisting branches that surrounded her, sensed everything that her environment had to tell; and yet, she was the one being hunted.


	2. Chapter 2

She normally woke early. Not as early as her father, of course - he had things to attend to. When she was younger she had always gone with him – to keep him in line he'd said, merrily. But she was older now.

She still woke early though, even if she was not as devoted to the pre-dawn as he was. She wasn't much for hanging around the house so usually was up and off to wherever, looking for something to do. Her father said she had his itchy feet.

So today she fidgeted as she sat on the veranda, her back against the doorframe, tapping and rubbing her heels on the rough, uneven edges of the floorboards, and wishing her father would hurry up and come home. Today, nothing was going to happen until that moment arrived.

Tora tucked her heels beneath her and sprang forwards so that she was propelled to her feet. She breathed deeply, feeling the hot, humid air go in and out of her. She felt aware of the smell of wet vegetation, and the green nature of the light that fell in blotchy patterns on the outside of the house. _Tree_ house. She practiced listening, picking out and identifying different noises. Hoopoe. Turaco. Cuckoo. Cockroach. Cicada. It was unusual that it wasn't raining, as heavy rainfall was typical at this time of year. She decided it was a good omen.

Inside the house was dark, or it may have just been her eyes adjusting. She padded silent and barefoot into her parents' room. The curtains were drawn. The sheets were scrunched upon one side of the bed. Tora paced over and stood close to where her mother slept, very quiet, and looked at her. What time was it? Still quite early.

She stretched her hand out, hesitantly, towards her mother's shoulder. But she withdrew it before making physical contact. Eventually, she walked into the washroom and looked at herself through the gloom in her mother's full length mirror.

Not especially tall. Thin. Bony shoulders and narrow hips. Dusty feet. Over worn, no-longer-white canvas shorts. A boys' sleeveless shirt, faded print, torn. Worn-down fingernails. Long, dark unkempt hair. She stuck out her chin. Her skin was deeply sun browned, like her father, and unlike her mother, with the occasional pale marks of scars and scuffs. Her eyes were startling blue.

_Thirteen._


	3. Chapter 3

"Happy birthday, darling!"

Tora embraced her mother and kissed her, and then they both turned as her father appeared on the veranda, grinning, and took her into his strong arms as well, lifting her from the floor.

"Happy birthday, Balu. I've got something for you."

He put her back down and stepped over to her mother who was now seated at the breakfast table, and kissed her gently on the cheek. Then he re-entered the house.

Tora sat down beside her mother at the little round table, with three places laid rather like Tora imagined tables might be arranged at Buckingham Palace. She tapped one foot on the floor in a restless way, as her mother poured tea from a pot into little matching cups. A delicate scent of vine flowers travelled to her on the warm morning air, mingling with the tantalising aroma of banana cake.

Her father reappeared, joining them at the table and placing in the centre a small, brown paper wrapped parcel tied with a ribbon.

"Go on." He urged, as Tora's mother cut into the banana cake and smiled softly, watching her daughter. She had tied up her long chestnut tresses elegantly and was wearing her favourite – and only – dress, white cotton with a startling-blue border that matched her eyes. Contrastingly, Tora's father's dark mane was as wild and unkempt as it ever was, and his deep-tanned skin shone golden in the warm light. He grinned widely, brightly, watching his daughter.

Tora took the parcel. The contents were indefinable through the packaging. She untied the ribbon. She unfolded the paper. Within, a small white muslin sleeve, folded in half. Something small and hard was inside. She tipped it out into her hand.

The diamond glittered, reflecting specks of coloured light into her palm. It was about the size of her thumbnail, approximately heart-shaped, and if there had been any rough surfaces they'd been polished smooth. The stone was a delicately pale blue, almost colourless, and was set in a silver bracket on a silver chain. Tora was dumbfounded.

"The chain is pretty strong." Said her father, "We didn't want you to worry about losing it if you wanted to wear it often."

"It's beautiful." Said Tora, thinking that didn't nearly cover it. "I'll wear it every day."

Her mother kissed her, and her father stood up to do the same, and fastened the diamond pendant around her neck. It rested against her breastbone, feeling warm.

"There. You're so grown up, I can't believe it." Her mother smiled gently.

"Where did you get it?" Tora asked, holding the diamond up in front of her eyes.

"That's a secret." Her father chewed banana cake and grinned, and her mother beamed too, resting her chin in her palm and raising her teacup to her lips with the other hand. Tora caught sight of her mother's wedding ring, whose stone also glittered with the same hint of pale blue.

"But I genuinely don't understand," said Tora, "how did you pay for something like this?"

"There are lots of things you don't know about your father." Said her mother, quietly, smiling affectionately across the table at him. He winked back at her. Tora stirred sugar into her tea and sipped it quietly, inwardly exasperated at her parents' exchange of private code.

"What are you planning to do today, Balu?" Her father was daintily taking his slice of cake apart with a fork which, even to Tora, did not look quite right in his large, strong, tanned hand.

"It's a school day." She replied.

"No no, no school on your birthday." Her mother's voice was high and bright.

"Oh. Well in that case…"

She wanted to say that in that case she had no plans, and there was nothing to do. But she couldn't manage such a groundless statement, with the weather being so unusually beautiful today.

"…well in that case I guess I'll go up river and see Mugambi."

"That sounds lovely," said her mother, pouring more tea, "but I'd like it if you took Tantor with you, darling, it's a long way and it might be getting dark by the time you come back."

"Yeah, it _definitely_ will be if he has to come, we'll be stopping every five minutes!" Tora grimaced at the thought of having to coax the neurotic elephant over every ridge and waterfall on the route. "Come on, I'm not a baby, I know how to look after myself outside."

"No. Your mother is right." Interrupted her father, sternly, "It's a long way and it's not just animals we don't know out there. Hunters have been through the trading post in the last few days." He finished, darkly.

"Well, Tantor will make a fun slow-moving target for them."

"_Tora._"

She glowered at her father, but then dropped her eyes.

"Yeah. You're probably right. I'll take Tantor with me then." She was careful not to sound too resentful.

"Good girl. We'll have a special birthday dinner together when you're back and you father has finished his work for the day."

Tora nodded and chewed her lower lip, raking at the crumbs on her plate with her fork. She tapped her foot on the floor unconsciously, while watching both her parents finish their breakfast. Her mother was reading the paper her father had brought back from the trading post – badly out of date – while he drank water from his teacup – another thing which didn't quite fit with his otherwise untamed looks. He'd never had anything do to with tea, as far back as she could remember.

Then he caught her looking at him, and grinned. "I know that look, Balu. What are you after?"

Tora felt her face flush with colour. Her mother looked over, brows raised with curiosity.

"Uh…nothing."

Her foot tapping increased in speed. Then, she glanced about quickly, sighed, and then leant forwards with her elbows on the table in a matter-of-fact kind of way.

"Okay. Dad. Mama. Please can I go to school in England?"

It was clear from their faces that her request could not have come as more of a surprise.

"What?" Her mother folded the paper and turned towards her daughter. Her father's brows had deep furrows in them.

"Why do you want to go to school in England?" His eyes searched her face. Tora looked down at her plate, feeling as if his gaze would burn through her.

"I…I just do." Her tone was sheepish.

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to give us a bit more than that, darling." Her mother's voice.

Tora sighed again. "I just…I've been here all my life…and I want to go and see where Mama lived before she came here. I've barely been more than a day's walk away from this house all my life."

"Yes you have." Her father's tone was bright. "Don't you remember your little jolly off with the German soldiers?" Then he withered slightly under the deadly glare her mother shot him, as if to say that was not a matter to be joking about. Tora glowered at him too, though not from solidarity with her mother.

"Darling, I understand you want to see London, and England, and the other places I've been to –"

"Anywhere except here really." Tora muttered.

"– but you're much too young to be travelling alone. There'll be plenty of time for that when you're a bit older, and you can go wherever –"

"But I _won't_ be alone, I'll be in school!" Tora tried to cut across her mother.

"You're getting a perfectly good education _here_." Her father's tone had a stern edge, "Your mother devotes her life to teaching you, and you should be grateful to her for that."

"But it's not fair. She doesn't have to do that. Mama got to go to a proper school, why can't I?"

"_I_ didn't!" Her father pointed out, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Yeah, and you've _never_ left the jungle!" Tora tone rose.

"Please, please." Her mother beseeched them, upset, cutting across her father who looked angry and had been about to respond. "Please let's not fight about this. Tora, darling, apart from anything else – your father and I don't have the money to send you to school in England."

Tora leaned back in her chair and directed her eyes pointedly downwards, as her heel thumped rapidly on the floorboards. She breathed slowly, and fiddled with her pendant. She was steeling herself to play her last card.

"Yeah you do." She said quietly but just loud enough so she knew they would hear. Her gaze was fixed in her lap.

She could sense her parents exchanging glances again, and then felt their eyes upon her.

"What are you talking about?" She heard her father say.

"Well…" She addressed her statement to one of the windows. "…I was having a look in Grandmother and Grandfather's books and um…I was reading Grandfather's journals and…" She faced her father, trying to keep the triumph from her face. He looked stiffly livid. "…and I know that you're heir to a family with a lot of money."

He seemed at a loss for words. Her mother's voice came first.

"Tora…I can't believe you'd…you think you can just…the most presumptuous –"

"You think you understand." Growled her father, leaning forwards and getting slowly to his feet. "Do you?"

Tora stared back defiantly into his face, but she knew she'd never seen him so angry with her, and she said nothing. Instead, she ground her teeth and dug her nails into her palms.

"Do you think you know what kind they are? MURDERERS!" He shouted the last word, and the crockery clattered on the table as he struck it with his palm. Tora leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair, as did her mother, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. One teacup tinkled and smashed to the floor.

For what seemed like a very long time they stood there, Tora and her father facing each other, frozen. She could hear blood pumping in her ears, and the sound of the air passing in and out of her nostrils as she took in deep breaths. In her peripheral vision her mother's eyes travelled back and forth silently between the two of them, her hand still clamped to her mouth.

Finally he spoke again, quiet once more.

"_I will have nothing to do with them._"

Tora finally broke the gaze, dropping it briefly before glancing at her mother. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

Without another word, Tora turned and ran from the veranda. Leaping into mid-air, she caught a branch and disappeared into the trees.


	4. Chapter 4

Msr. Dumont stood in the lobby of Dumont's Trading Post, which was the ground floor of the traveller's lodge as well as the shop floor, and looked at his pocket watch which informed him that it was eleven o'clock. Entering through the front door, the day-lit room presented a number of tabled booths, each with two un-cushioned benches jutting out from the wall, and separated by a screen on the back of each bench. At the far side of the room was the counter, generally attended by Mr Hugo or Mr Hooft, if not Msr. Dumont himself. Behind the attendant was a door to the warehouse where all stock was kept, and beside this the staircase to the lodging rooms on the first-and-only-other floor.

For a little over a decade now, the shipping lane between Europe and Cape Town had steadily become busier, and as a direct result Msr. Dumont had been able to congratulate himself daily for the good fortune he'd had in deciding to set up his business on this previously unknown point of coast. Here, where there was a reliable source of fresh water from the river delta and the high cliffs on either side protected the deep, natural harbour, what had once been just Dumont's trading post was now a port frequented by cargo ships, and people keen to get onto dry land for a bit and have a poke around. Also more and more frequently, people were turning up who were not on the way to any further destination. They'd heard stories about the jungle here, or more to the point, what was in it.

Msr. Dumont, propping up the counter with one elbow while running the other hand through his oily, grey flecked hair, loosened the top two buttons of his shirt and ran the point of his pen down the list of stock in his jotter. A scrunching sound in his right ear made him turn his head.

His amber eyes found Tora, who was sitting in the booth in the far corner of the room, surrounded by a growing pile of crumpled paper balls. She was now bent over with head bowed as she concentrated feverishly on sharpening her pencil with a little pen-knife. Then she pulled a fresh paper sheet towards her, thumped her elbow down on the table and rested her forehead in her palm, exhaling sharply through her nose.

Her presence was not a surprise to him – for one thing, he had provided her with both paper and pencil – and for another, it was not uncommon to find her here in the trading post, either with her parents or alone, or talking to the people that passed through for shopping or lodging. He watched her as she applied the freshly cut tip of the pencil to the paper, pressing into it but apparently unable to begin an inscription, while her long dark curls shadowed her face from the light of the window. She was frowning and chewing her lower lip, as one slender leg bounced up and down under the table as she tapped her bare-heel on the floor.

He could remember her as a baby, always smiling, laughing, with bright blue eyes - beautiful, just like her mother. He'd watched her growing up, learn to talk, walk, gain independence. He wondered if her father had noticed the way the male visitors looked at her now, as her limbs were becoming long and slender, and her chest just starting to bud beneath her clothes. Perhaps if he did, he wouldn't let her spend so much time here by herself. Which would be a shame, Dumont observed, as _he_ didn't mind at all, especially if it meant the customers hung around a bit longer.

When he thought about it, he realized that it was during the last year? – no, it must be a bit more than that - that the girl had been spending more and more time there. Yes, it was two years now, he reflected, since that unhappy occurrence of the missing baby, the little green-eyed toddler who'd been Tora's sister. He remembered with aching clarity the feeling of pity he'd had as he watched that family frantically searching, and he'd spoken empty words of hope to them, even though he knew they were just prolonging their suffering. But the clearest image, he realized now with a pang of melancholy, was of Tora's mother Jane that day in the trading post, when the chief of police who'd come over from the nearest French colony told her that the search was being called off, the way she screamed in anguish and fell against her husband's chest, and he tried to hold her up with shaking arms. She'd had to be carried out, and he saw now in his mind's eye the small, thin form of Tora, standing stiffly in the corner of the room, apparently rooted to the spot, wordless, but trembling.

As he watched her sitting there, now, he was curious about what it could be that was so important, yet so difficult to pin down on a piece of paper. He let himself out from behind the counter and approached the girl at her desk. She didn't look up as he sat down. Her pencil had remained loyal to its initial point on the page, and had not moved, merely producing a very heavy full stop.

"You know, Mademoiselle, I was once very well known for my skill with a pen. When I was younger I had the girls queuing up to have a _Poésie de Renard_ written about them. The boys too. Perhaps I may be of assistance to you…?"

The girl leaned back against the hard bench and looked at him.

"I'm not writing _poetry_, Msr. Dumont." She said, as if the idea was preposterous. "I'm writing…I'm _trying_ to write a letter to someone." She put the blunt end of the pencil – already well chewed – between her teeth and looked vaguely out of the window. "But I don't know how." She finished, quietly.

He picked up one of the balls of paper, smoothed it back out, and read:

_Dear Lady Waltham,_

_You probably don't know who I am, and you probably don't know exactly who my father is, but there is something I would like to ask you and something you should know._

"It's very delicate." She explained. "I've already made a mistake and I don't want to cause any more problems."

"Is it something your parents can help you with?"

Tora sighed. "They won't help me with this. If they knew I was writing to Dad's family in England… they just want me to stay here forever like they will. They don't care about what I want in my life."

"Aren't you happy?"

"I.."

She fidgeted in disquietude for a moment, tilting her head and squinting as if trying to seek out the phrasing she was grasping for written on the far wall. "…It's not about being happy or unhappy. I just want to live my own life, you know? Everyone's still broken up about my sister. They want me to stay at home forever because they think if I don't I'll disappear."

"Really? You think they imagine you'll wonder off? You're not an infant." He raised his eyebrows. She fidgeted, evidently aware that she had sounded sanctimonious. She gave him a pained look and ground her teeth.

"You…you don't understand. Nothing's like I remember it. _They're_ not…I just can't stay here anymore. I know they love me, and I don't want to upset them but…I hate it here." She finished quietly.

"Well…" ventured Msr. Dumont, "couldn't you stay with the Waziri for a while? Or, you could stay here?" He indicated the room they were in with a flourishing hand gesture.

"Thanks, but, if I did that I'd have to explain to them what I've just told you, and I don't think I could do that."

"_Porquoi?_"

"Well, I think it would hurt them." She sighed. She was slouching against the bench back and her face was cast down at the blank page in front of her. The tip of the pencil still touched the top of the paper. The sadness that had seeped into her mind since _that day_ – the day that had hardened her father and weakened her mother – had declined in inverse proportion to her anger, which grew and gradually corroded her world like salt water.

"If I leave here," she continued, "they'll be more sad. But if I stay here…I think things will be worse. I don't…" She trailed off, but Msr. Dumont sensed that the reasoning was continuing inside her head, so he watched her without interrupting.

Eventually he said "_Pardon, Mademoiselle_" and stood up as there was a man waiting at the counter. But before turning from her he said "I know that you have enough wisdom to find the resolution you need, _Victoire_. It is a gift your parents gave you."

She looked up at him and their eyes met. Finally, she nodded slowly, and touched the diamond that sparkled on her breast distractedly. When he left, she returned once more to her paper, and after a few moments contemplation the words began to flow from the tip of the pencil, finally liberated from its entropy. Text splattered the page like water bursting out from the earth, and the pace of her scribbling increased until eventually she brought the tip of the pencil down so hard on the paper that it snapped.

The shattering lead broke Tora's concentration for long enough that her attention was caught by something said between Dumont and the customer at the counter.

"_Th' _White Ape_ doesnae concern me in onie way. He's nae whit Ah'm efter."_

"_But he'll be after you."_

Tora looked up, her interest caught. At the counter, Msr. Dumont leant with his elbows on the surface and his fingers steepled, and across from him was the man who had been waiting for the proprietor's attention. He had not interested Tora before, but now that he had spoken she peered at him more closely.

He was tall, so much so that he was stooped over to be at Dumont's eye-level. His clothes were not unusual for those worn by people frequenting the trading post, but the shirt and slacks looked as if they'd seen better days as they were sun-bleached and tatty, though clean. They appeared to have been passed down to him from a large person, as they hung off his frame like elephant skin on a wire hanger. Tora could not see his face as he was turned away from her, and his head was bowed. Beneath his hand on the counter was a raggedy wide-brimmed straw hat, and in his other hand a flash of metal – he was wiggling two large gold coins between his fingers, and Dumont was eyeing them with much calculation in his expression.

"_Much as I would be delighted to relieve you of more of your holiday money, Monsure, I'm afraid I cannot sell you free passage through the jungle. Believe me, I would if I could. But the Ape Man has no love or need for currency."_

The man snorted a derisive laugh.

"_Sae, whit diz he deal in…coconuts? Bananas? 'Main 'en noo. Yoo're a business cheil – we baith ken ae'body's go a price."_

"I'd listen to Msr. Dumont if I were you." Said Tora, resting her elbows on the counter beside the stranger's hat. "You can't hunt here."

The man turned to her. He had a long face and his nose was crooked at the bridge like Mr Hugo's after he got punched for cheating at cards. He had brown eyes and very short brown hair, but it lay close to his scalp rather than sticking straight up like short hairs often do. He was white but looked as if he spent a lot of time in the sun, as his tan was almost as deep as her own. He drew a smile with one side of his mouth, revealing slightly yellowing premolars.

"Noo, that's huir uv a disappointin' bark, coz Ah hud mah heart sit oan a wee bonnie moggie Ah've heard li'es aroond haur. Sae th' puddock isnae pullin' mah leg 'en lassie?"

Tora had trouble with the man's strong accent, which she was unfamiliar with.

"He's not joking, if that's what you mean." She said. The man laughed again.

"Whit's yer nam, wee hen?"

"Victoria Jane Alice Porter."

"Weel mine's Alastair Cameron Ewan Brodie." He said, offering her his hand. She shook it, giving him her most intimidating stare. "Is thes puddock yer pa?"

"No, he isn't. But you've heard of my dad I think. I heard you talking about him just now."

Alistair looked surprised. "Th' _White Ape_'s yer da?" He turned back to Dumont. "Sae it's true he's jist a cheil 'en? Aam nae a body tae be pockled by beastie stories ye ken!"

"He's not just a man." Cut in Tora before Dumont could respond. "He's stronger than any man alive and he can break your guns and tear your nets with his bare hands."

"Aye, pure?"

"Yes, and he'll break your neck too just as easily if he catches you hunting in our jungle."

"Doesnae he ken he's sittin' oan a lot ay pony in 'at jungle? It's wylakin' 'at he willnae shaur e'en a wee bit."

When Tora looked confused he waved the gold coins he had in front of her, and, comprehending she said "He doesn't care about money."

"Aye reit, sae hoo did ye gie 'at bonnie wee staine aroond yer neck? Looks tay new tae be an heirloom." He said, eyeing Tora's diamond. She fingered it warily and glared at him. "Yer da is probably ferr brassic efter splashin' it oan 'at wee treasure, nae? Ah hink he'd be able tae buy ye win twice th' size ay 'at wi' win skin aff those leopards."

"I don't think so." Said Tora, who was aware enough of the values of animal skins and diamonds from conversations she'd overheard from years of visiting punters. "Besides, we don't have a lot of leopards around here – they don't have any permanent territory here anymore."

"Ah but ye see, thaur hae bin sightings ay huir uv raur cats abit these parts. Ah've bin followin' them frae inlain fur weeks, but Ah cannae gie a glimpse ay 'em."

"Leopards aren't rare. They just don't come around here much." Tora insisted.

"Nae –" Alistair put a conspiratorial arm about Tora's shoulder and assumed a hushed tone "–an' Ahm tellin' ye thes coz Ah ken ye willnae gang blabbin' it aroond - these ones ur huir uv a raur. It's some kin' ay _subspecies_."

"What's so special about them?" Asked Tora, dropping her tone as well. Being so close to him made her wrinkle her nose slightly at his unfamiliar masculine scent.

"Ah dunnae ken, lassie. But a fur as raur as 'at will fetch a lot."

"Enough…for a boat ticket to England?"

Alistair laughed heartily, and Tora's face flushed.

"Aye, Ah woods say sae. Ye thinkin' abit a holiday, ye wee herry?"

He chuckled away to himself, and Tora said nothing. Finally, in a more sombre tone, he said "Sae, dae ye hink ye can persuade yer da tae lit me catch win ur tois them moggies? He willnae e'en miss 'em."

"No. But, what would I get if I bring you one of the leopards myself?"

She knew he would laugh, and he did, louder even than before. Then he said "Lassie, if ye brin' me a win ay those cats Ah'll tak' ye tae Englain maself. But, hoo come th' _White Ape_ wooldnae break yer neck if he caught ye, loch ae'body else?"

"Of course he wouldn't." Said Tora. "I'm his daughter."


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry Jane, that was your favourite tea set."

"It was my _only_ tea set."

"Mm."

Jane watched her husband collect up the broken cup, appraising it for repair. Then he stepped towards her and crouched beside the chair she occupied, peering into her face. She was still a little shaken. He sighed and cast his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry about how I reacted to Tora. I don't know why I behaved like that. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, Love…" She caressed his forearm with a gentle touch of her hand. "I was caught off guard by what she said too. It's so unlike her. She never used to behave like this."

"A lot has changed." He realised his statement was obvious, and wishing to draw his wife's attention away from it before she dwelt on its meaning he said "She's growing up and that's all. Perhaps she needs some room to grow. Maybe I don't give her enough freedom."

"What child has more freedom than Tora, Love? She has the whole jungle as her playground, and a thousand creatures as her playmates."

"She has what I had."

"She has more – a human family and peers. It's not like we've tried to hide her from the world."

"But the world is bigger than this jungle." He frowned

"Yes…"

She drew his head to her chest and rested her chin on his crown. "She's young enough still to feel like childhood will last forever." She spoke softly. "She'll have plenty of time to discover the world when she's a little older. She just can't see that now."

"Maybe I should go and talk to her." He rose from the floor. Jane nodded, and stood to kiss his cheek.

"Where do you think she went?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Where might he be?"

In spite of her parents' own beliefs, Tora herself was not in fact unfamiliar with hunting. This was mostly due to her contact with the Waziri tribe for whom hunting was a way of survival, and which even her father accepted as natural order. Tora's best friend, and one of her very few human peers, was a Waziri boy called Mugambi who was the son of the present chief and was Tora's age. He was a talented trapper and tracker, and had taught Tora most of what he knew.

Despite her experience, Tora had never hunted anything without Mugambi, and certainly nothing within her father's territorial range. The promise she'd made to Alistair Brodie was a bold one, and she knew it. She'd promised him a leopard, when the largest and most dangerous thing she'd ever caught was a miniature antelope.

Tora was not daunted by this. She felt that there might be a way for her to gain the upper hand over the leopards. After leaving the trading post she headed straight into the deep jungle, and searched for her friend Manu.

That task in itself could prove problematic. Tora knew Manu well, and he was not a shy fellow by any means, it was just that there were a large number of places that he might be at any given time. On top of that, as with most of the jungle's residents Manu was not one to advertise his presence. On the other hand, Tora had a feeling that if she made her own presence well known, Manu might come to her.

Tora tramped through the undergrowth, making her footfalls as loud as possible. She did not shout, because she thought it unnecessary, and she was shortly proven correct as sooner than she'd expected she felt a gaze upon her, followed quickly by the soft thud of a body dropping to the ground, and then gentle footsteps behind her. She turned. He had found her.

"Hi." She said. Manu grinned, showing his long yellow canines. He held out a long-fingered hand expectantly. Tora reached into her pockets and felt around amongst the shrapnel inside. She withdrew a broken piece of chalk, and handed it to him. He brought it close to his brown eyes and inspected it. He put it between his teeth.

"It's not food." Tora found the other piece of broken chalk in her pocket, and demonstrated its use on the nearest tree trunk.

"Look at this." She drew out four block capital letters on the smooth trunk. "These marks mean MANU. Muh," she pointed at the M, "Ah, Nuh, Oo. And this –" she drew another four letters, "means TORA." Manu grinned. It was this knowledge of Manu's soft-spot for man-made objects that had led Tora to believe she could track him down.

Manu was a baboon, an old family friend, even though the baboon tribe were natural enemies of Tora's family. They all, though, shared a common enemy though in the leopards, as they frequented the same hunting territory, and it was not uncommon for the baboons to snatch and kill leopard cubs, and vice versa. Tora was certain that if the leopards had indeed returned to the area, the baboon tribe were sure to know about it. She sat down with her back against the vandalized tree trunk, and Manu poked his long fingers into her pockets in search of more fragmented treasures. Tora knew he was after her little gold Waziri hunting-knife, but she had tucked it away securely under her clothes.

"Is it true that the leopards have returned to this part of the jungle?" She spoke to him in the language of the baboon tribe.

Manu gave her a sideways look while scrawling across the bark.

"_From our tribe, they have taken two in four days._" His tone was quite impassive.

Though Tora was not familiar with leopards within her father's realm, she knew from stories told to her by her parents and the older gorillas that leopards used to terrorize her family. She knew also that a leopard had killed her grandparents on her father's side, and that her father had later avenged them by killing their killer, the leopardess Sabor, the only life he had ever consciously taken. She also knew that that two other leopards had been out for her family's blood around the time that she was born, but they had moved on with the rest of the leopards when they left the area.

"What can you tell me about the attacks?"

"_They happened at dusk, while we were asleep. Those taken were infants. We know the enemies of old. They are the same who hunted your father and mother, and are known as Nuru and Sheeta._"

Tora applied her chalk to the tree, and drew out the landmarks of the near jungle. "Where might I find them?" She said, pointing to her map. "If this is the sea, and this is the mountains, and this is the river, and this is baboon tribe territory, and this is Elephant Falls, then where are the leopards?"

Manu showed her, using his chalk. "_And this is where one of our tribe was taken, and this, where the other was taken._"

"You won't tell my parents that I asked you these things, will you?"

She wondered if he would ask her why she wanted to know, or what it was she meant to do. But he just looked at her with his piercing, white-less eyes, and his expression showed no questioning. She knew that Manu did not dwell much on the strange, erratic behaviour of human kind.

Satisfied, Tora departed wordlessly and plunged further into the deep jungle. She took to the trees so as to escape the tell-tale footfalls that would alert the forest denizens to her presence. As she pushed on by vine and branch, she vaguely outlined a plan in her mind. _Seek out the den. Let nobody see you. Watch them. Decide on a time to return, prepared._

From the locations of the two abductions which Manu had pointed out to her, she guessed that the leopard territory might lie in the valley immediately to the east of the baboon tribe. She wondered what she would do if she couldn't find them. She did not realize that she was the one who would be discovered.

Tora was not far into the valley, when two shining green eyes with slit pupils rested on her with acute interest. Their owner slunk silently through the leafy canopy, stalking her, stopping when she stopped and always maintaining the distance between them. It was not until she was deep in the heart of the valley, when Tora suddenly became aware of a presence behind her. The slight rustle of parting foliage. The creak of a branch. Besides the little knife in her pocket, she was totally unarmed.

Tora was just considering whether it would be worth making an arboreal scramble for the higher canopy, where she might escape her pursuer in the weaker boughs, when she realized that whatever it was was upon her. She turned, slowly.

It was a leopard. She'd never seen one before but it was unmistakable. An icy mist filled her head, and her muscles coiled in preparation for flight. She knew the attempt would most likely be futile. The leopard did not move. It was sitting three paces from her on her bough, keen green eyes staring into her own, and tail twitching gently. Hypnotically. And then it did something she did not expect; it _spoke_ to her.

"_I know your smell._"

It took her a moment to understand this odd statement. The words were spoken in the language of her gorilla tribe, but coming from the leopard the sounds were strange, as if a challenge to pronounce. It put her in mind of the peculiar way that Msr. Dumont spoke English.

"I…I'm sorry?"

"_I know your smell. You are a human. You smell like the human that was my mother, from the gorilla tribe that lives near here. I remember her, and also her mate who is the leader of the gorilla tribe._"

Tora stood still and waited, watching the leopard closely for signs of sudden attack. But the leopard just sat there staring at her. It tilted its head to the side, as if in questioning. Then, something stirred in Tora's distant memory. She remembered her mother talking about a leopard cub. Some story about a lost cub, something that had happened before Tora was born…?

"_My name is Nanakeh. But when I was with my human mother I had a different name. It was…it was…_"

"I…know who you are. My parents told me about you."

The leopard smiled, or did something that looked akin to a smile. Tora saw smooth white incisors and jaggedy carnassials. She swallowed.

"You were following me."

"_Yes._"

"Are you going to kill me?"

"_Oh, no. My tribe does not hunt the members of the gorilla tribe. Even if they travel so willingly across our borders._"

The voice was melodious and silky, and the leopard's head swayed gently from side to side like her mother did when she listened to Strauss on the gramophone.

"Now, I know _that_ isn't true. I know that leopards used to hunt and kill the gorillas here."

"_No, it is true. My tribe did once hunt and eat the gorilla people, but not after the kindness shown by the human my mother. Since then, my leopard mother made a promise that we won't again hunt the gorilla tribe, and she took us far from here, for she is the leader of my tribe._"

"So why did you follow me?"

Tora was instinctively suspicious of the leopard. She had been told many stories by her father of the cold viciousness and ferocity of leopards, and their cunning. But also, she remembered now that whenever her mother had heard her father talking in this way, she had interrupted with the story about the leopard cub she had found and cared for, and how when she returned it to its true mother the leopardess had defended her against other leopards' attacks. Her father had had to concede that his own experiences of leopards were not universally true, and that was usually the end of that.

Tora had always assumed that her mother told that story because she was worried that Tora would be frightened by what her father had said. Now she realized that the tale must have been true after all.

She also considered the truth that during her lifetime she had never known of any leopard attack on her family, nor anyone she knew. Perhaps this leopard was not trying to deceive her.

"_I followed you because I think you may be the kin of my human mother, and I wanted to find out if that was true._"

"It is true. She is my mother, and my father is the leader of the gorilla tribe."

"_Then that means that we are brother and sister! What is your name?_"

"Tora."

"_Tora, my sister. Allow me to approach you, and do not be afraid for your brother will not hurt you._"

As he said this, he rose up onto all fours and closed the distance between them with a few broad bounds. She could not help feeling alarmed, but stood her ground as the green eyed carnivore approached, and then he bumped his head against her hip, and she had to steady herself against him so as not to lose her balance on the branch. There was a rumbling sound coming from within the great cat, and his fur was soft and smooth as he rubbed himself against the bare skin of her arm. He looked up at her, bright green eyes blazing into hers. She saw how beautiful he was.

Realizing that she trusted him, Tora reached out to stroke the great head. Nanakeh closed his eyes, and the rumbling sound coming from inside him grew louder. It made her smile.

"I didn't know that leopards spoke the same language as the gorillas."

"_We don't. Or at least, we don't usually. I was the first to learn your language while I was in the care of our mother. Then after I returned to my tribe, my mother encouraged them to learn from me. Her name is Lakadema. She said that the chief of the gorilla tribe speaks the language of many peoples, and that we should do the same._"

Tora wondered why leopards would feel the need to converse with other species, for as far as she knew their major relationship with any other animal was as predator to prey.

"_I'm hungry._" Said Nanakeh. "_Come hunting with me. Do you hunt?_"

"Yes. What do you like to hunt?"

"_Baboon._" He drew out the word like a note in a song, stretching his forelegs across the branch and flexing his claws delicately along the bark.

"Oh. I don't hunt those." She scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

"_Then, what do you hunt?_"

"Squirrels, mostly."

He rolled his head onto one side and gazed at her. Taking this as a prompt, she went on;

"Sometimes I try to hunt antelope with my friend Mugambi, but we don't see them often and I've never caught one by myself. Besides, we're not really allowed."

"_A squirrel is a small meal. But no meal is to be sneezed at._" Nanakeh again flexed his claws against the mossy bark, and licked his black lips with a large pink tongue._ "Let us hunt for some squirrels together, my little sister. But,_" he looked her up and down appraisingly, "_by what means exactly_ do_ you hunt? You do not have claws or sharp teeth, or other tools such as humans use. Perhaps you are very fast, but I doubt that you are faster than a squirrel, for squirrels are nimble as well as swift, and even I can rarely catch one in a tree or on the ground in a chase._"

"You are right, I can't catch one by chasing it. But I have another way."

"_Teach me your way, and I will teach you mine. Let's go._"

He sprang forward from the bough, sailing right over Tora's head, and she would have lost him in the foliage had she not recovered quickly from her astonishment and given immediate chase. He led her quickly into the deep bush, where the layers and layers of leaves overhead made the forest interior gloomy and endlessly green.

As they pressed on, it dawned on Tora the naïveté of her inspiration to venture alone and near-unarmed into leopard territory, for she realized Nanakeh must have known she was there long before she knew he was, and could have silently dropped down upon her at any moment of his choosing, and she would have had no more warning than if she were both blind and deaf.

She watched him leap elegantly from limb to limb just ahead of her, stopping from time to time to turn and watch her, as she swung and scrambled in his wake. Tora regarded herself as well adept at traversing the jungle interior, but she was very aware of the swiftness, the effortless deftness of Nanakeh's paws as he slipped through the boughs like water in a stream. She felt foolish, and was glad that greenish jungle light hid the blush in her face.

They descended gradually through the canopy and understory, losing light by degrees as they went, and finally as they reached the forest floor Tora could hear running water.

"_There is a stream passing through here, so it is a good place to hunt as many animals visit this place._"

"That makes sense. My parents always tell me to be careful at the river, for you never know who else you might meet there."

"_That is very wise. Now, show me how you hunt!_"

"Oh, yes…" Tora looked about her, and then began a climb into the low branches of a tree which was festooned with climbing vines and creepers. Nanakeh watched her from the ground in curiosity, until she returned with a handful of dry, stringy fragments and some long green shoots, which she picked the leaves from and begun to weave the threads together. After a few minutes of swift braiding, she had a length of rough, thin, but pleasingly strong cord. She cut the loose ends with her little gold knife.

Then without a word, she began to survey the forest area around the stream, until she found a place where two slender sapling trunks narrowed the path to the water. Here, she made a noose of her little rope, and suspended the loop of it between the two saplings, spanning the constricted pathway, and tied the other end fast to one of the stronger branches. Then she dusted off her hands and stood up.

"An animal will come through here to get to the stream. We will hide nearby and watch, very quietly. It will walk through the loop and get caught, and the noose will tighten, see?" She demonstrated the free running nature of the noose to Nanakeh. "And then all I will have to do is jump down and grab it!"

"_Ah._" Said Nanakeh, though he did not look convinced. He tilted his head to one side and regarded the snare.

"Come on, let's hide. We may have a while to wait though."

"_Aha,_" Nanakeh smiled, "_that is a part of hunting that I know well how to do._"

They backed off a good distance from the path, crouched silently in the lower branches and masked by foliage. They waited, and sat, and Tora noticed the way that Nanakeh seemed to melt out of sight, so still was he and so perfectly camouflaged in his environment.

"Nanakeh," Tora spoke in a low voice so that it would be covered by the sound of the stream, "how did you find me earlier, while I was climbing through the trees? Did I cross your path without seeing you?"

"_No. I was sitting nearby in the trees, listening for something to hunt. I heard you coming, so I followed you. But then I saw that you were from the gorilla tribe, I knew that I could not hunt you, but I wondered if you were his cub of the tribe leader, and the cub of his mate, which would mean you were my sister. So I kept following you._"

"Did you follow me far?"

"_Quite far. But in the end you heard me, as I thought you must, and I could tell that you had sensed me. I did not want you to run away, so that is when I showed myself._"

"I didn't realize I was so loud."

"_Most things that move through the jungle make a sound, even when they try to be quiet. That is why I sit and wait, and listen. Look!_"

Nanakeh's eyes were wide, and Tora followed his gaze to the place where she had laid the snare. There, in the path, a small creature had emerged from the bush and was approaching the stream. It was a duiker. Tora held her breath as she watched the tiny deer-like animal lift its nose and sniff, looking about warily. It stepped forward. Tora mentally kicked herself, for she had built the snare with squirrels in mind, and had not made it especially strong.

The duiker walked right into the snare, which fell over its head and caught about its shoulders. The noose slipped closed. Tora was sure that the cord would break, as the animal pulled against it and started to become distressed, but to her surprise it held fast.

"_What happens now?_" asked Nanakeh. His eyes were bright, and fixed on the trapped animal. And Tora could see his claws flexing in anticipation.

"Let's go." She withdrew her golden hunting knife from her pocket, and slithered off the branch to land with a crashing of undergrowth. Nanakeh followed.

The little deer was calling a plaintive wail as she approached, and as it pulled hard on the rope it was choking itself. Tora was not at all squeamish about hunting for food, and readied her knife to swiftly end the creature's suffering, but as she reached out to lay a hand on it the rope finally snapped and the duiker fell, righted itself and scampered off into the bush.

"Oh!" Tora said, jumping to her feet, but before she had even moved a step forward there was a flash of yellow and brown as Nanakeh bounded past her, lightning fast, in pursuit of the duiker. She heard the crash of his body landing and a squeal. Moments later he reappeared, with the duiker in his jaws, limp and swinging. Blood dripped from its nose, and the leopard was purring in satisfaction.

"Woah." She took a step back. She's never seen an animal killed in that way before. "Hey, looks like you are fast enough to catch prey on the ground after all."

Nanakeh blinked. She took it as an affirmative. Then he dropped the duiker.

"_Let's eat._" His teeth and jaws were bloody.

"Oh, thanks but I…" and then her eyes went wide. "Oh, what time is it?" She looked around, but not enough light reached the forest floor to tell her anything about the position of the sun in the sky. "Never mind, I've got to go – I'm late for my birthday dinner!"


	7. Chapter 7

The sun sat low and lazy in the afternoon sky when Tora emerged from the dense jungle gloom, heading for home. Her progress, which had always felt swift and easy before, now felt clumsy and sluggish after having witnessed the way Nanakeh had moved – so fluid, so natural, so clear that it was what his body was made for, and so clear that hers was not. She knew that she was gifted with a nimbleness that few others – even the gorillas – could match. Now however she knew there was another whose prowess she could never attain, and she felt foolish for ever thinking she could take on a leopard. Somehow, though, this did not upset her.

Nanakeh had not at all been what she had expected of a leopard. He had not been a monster lurking in the night, waiting to fall upon her and tear away her flesh. He had been soft. Beautiful. His voice was like a song, and his eyes shone like a crystal pool. And he was her brother.

She liked that.

And yet she had promised that hunter that she would kill a leopard. How could she have thought to do such an awful thing? And, how had she really thought she could accomplish it? It was ridiculous.

Why had she made that promise anyway? Oh…yes. Her parents. That argument.

Tora remembered the way her mother's eyes had shone with tears, and what her father had said about his family. Murderers? Was it really true?

_Maybe I am too hard on them. I know they love me. Am I ungrateful?_

As she swung and clambered she felt the little diamond bouncing on her chest, like a heartbeat.

_Yes, perhaps._

She drew near to home, and resolved that when she arrived she would tell them she was sorry, she would kiss them, and then she would delight them with her new discovery of Nanakeh – though, better that she leave out the reason why she ventured into that part of the jungle in the first place.

But, she did not get the chance to do any of this.

As she stepped onto the veranda, she was faced by her father standing in the doorway. His brows were downward pointing and his jaw was clenched, and he stood tall and wide, and fixing her with a direct stare.

"I would like you to explain this." His tone was little more than a growl.

Tora was confused, but then recognized the crumpled sheets of paper he was holding in front of her. He had read her letters from the trading post.

She glanced past him through the doorway, where her mother hovered with a tense expression, arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes were red rimmed, evidence that she had cried recently.

"Well!?"

Tora jumped and took a step back from her father. His lip had curled back revealing white teeth.

"I…it's just a letter." She spoke quietly, but he picked up on the defiance in her voice.

"JUST a letter? How DARE you!? I told you that I will have NOTHING TO DO WITH THOSE PEOPLE!_"_ His fingers flexed, tearing the paper.

"_Please_, Love, don't-" it was her mother's voice. Tora felt the prick of tears in her eyes, and despite her shock at seeing her father so transformed, she squared her shoulders a little and set her jaw.

"I just wrote a letter. I wasn't even going to –"

"Who do you think youare, Tora!? What's _wrong with you!_?"

"But –"

"You only think about yourself, you don't care at all about anyone else – least of all your mother and I!"

She glared at him, blinking to keep back the tears.

"You are the one that's selfish, Dad! You're just too _proud_ to talk to them. What do I care if they are murderers?"

He slapped her.

He had never in her life raised a hand to her, not even come close. The blow knocked her sideways, even though it had contained little of the power of his arm. She stumbled into the edge of the table, then steadied herself as the sting spread across her cheek.

Her mother cried out and tried to get to her, but her path was blocked by her husband, who now stood very still.

Tora felt the tears spill forth. She covered her face with her hands, and for the second time that day she fled her parents' presence.


	8. Chapter 8

A moonless darkness had fallen over the jungle by the time Tora came to rest in the lower boughs of a tree, later that evening. As she peered into the inky black, she could just about make out the glint and glimmer of light dancing off water, and heard the rushing stream below. She had only her knife, and a long length of slender rope, which she had pilfered from the warehouse of the trading post. One end was fashioned into a noose.

The sky was full of dark clouds, and she could hear the distant rumble of thunder. It was raining, softly but with growing insistence. She'd heard the patter on the canopies above, and the water had now trickled its way down to her perch. She shivered a little, but was glad of the rain. It would mask both her smell and any sound she might make.

_Nanakeh said that it was much better to sit and wait, and watch, than to move through the jungle to hunt, as everyone makes a sound as they move._

She had chosen her place strategically. It was at the border between the leopards' and the baboons' territories, above a running stream. Furthermore, the border was marked by a rocky ridge on the edge of the valley, and her spot lay in the middle of a path through the high rocks. It seemed like a likely route for anyone moving between territories.

Tora felt her cheek with her hand. It was cold now and damp, and there was no sign of the handprint. There was a heavy feeling in her chest.

_He didn't even give me a chance to explain. He didn't care what I was going to say. He's the one who is selfish. He hit me. He's a monster._

She rested her chin in her hand, curling up closer against the trunk.

_She didn't even try to stop him._

Her eyes felt hot and she rubbed them hard with the back of her wrist.

_They'll be sad later, when I'm gone. When they realise I'm not coming back. Then they'll know it's all their fault._

Remembering something, she pushed her hand into her pocket, withdrawing the folded paper from within, pinched between forefinger and thumb. She could just about make out the pencilled words written in haste that morning. She read it twice. Then she gripped the crumpled loose-leaf in her fists, twisting it, her jaw clenched tight…but she didn't rip it. In the end, she re-folded it carefully and pushed it back into her pocket. Her fingers, so bent on destruction a moment before now absently fiddled with the diamond and chain about her neck.

She'd worn it for less than a day, but it already felt like part of her. But every time she was reminded of its presence, she was reminded also of her parents.

She reached around to the back of her neck and unfastened the chain. She looked at the heart shaped stone, glinting in her palm and nestled in the silver chain that surrounded it. It seemed to glow a little, and felt warm. She willed herself to pitch it into the blackness and not care. But she couldn't do that either. After a while she gave up, and refastened it around her neck, taking care that the clasp was properly closed.

Then she recalled that it was her birthday, and that she was thirteen. _Thirteen_. Was thirteen really old enough to leave home?

She shivered again, but not from the cold. She thought about Alistair Brodie. He'd _seemed_ friendly enough. He had been quick to smile and laugh, and besides he had made her a _promise_. There was just something that she could not put her finger on. Perhaps it was his over familiar manner, in the way he had put his arm about her uninvited. She hadn't much liked his smell.

_I'm just too sensitive. I must stop thinking like a child. After all, he is my only way to escape from here._

She tapped her foot absent-mindedly as she thought, until she realised what she was doing and abruptly stopped.

For a very long time she sat there, still and quiet as possible, and with only her thoughts for company as the jungle path below her remained deserted, and the flow of the stream grew faster, and the rain grew heavier, and the oppressive scent of wet vegetation filled her nose. She realised that her eyelids were becoming heavy, and if she closed them even just for a moment she would start drifting off into uncomfortable dreams, only to reawaken with a start a few seconds later. She was about to give up, with much reluctance, and wondered where on earth she could lie down safely for a rest, when her senses suddenly informed her that she was no longer alone in the clearing.

She froze, all fatigue gone in an instant, as the sudden surge of adrenaline made her head pound and her senses become sharp.

The movement of the newcomer made her think of Nanakeh, but it was not him. She saw no spots or light patches in the fur – this one was completely black – and bigger too.

Even in her resolve keep the promise she had made to Brodie, she could not completely reconcile her feelings about leopards. She had really liked Nanakeh, and he had said they were brother and sister. Her mother had often spoken with fondness about her experiences with him. But now, here she was, meaning to trap and kill one of his kind.

She steadied her resolve by pushing her thoughts about Nanakeh to the back of her mind, and reminding herself that there had been two black leopards – Nuru and Sheeta – who had actively sought out her parents on many occasions to kill them, and that leopards had terrorised her father's tribe for as long as anyone could remember. Until Nanakeh, that is. _No, they are killing baboons and Manu is my friend too. Those who kill must prepare to be killed as well._

She had hoped that it would be either Nuru or Sheeta that she met that night, and though she couldn't be completely sure she had a feeling that because this leopard was heading straight towards the baboon territory, she was in luck.

The leopard seemed completely unaware that she was there. It loped easily through the soggy undergrowth and stopped at the stream to drink. _Maybe it's a male...it could be Sheeta. _Tora's heart thudded in her chest. If it weren't for the rain she was sure that the leopard would have heard it pounding.

With the coiled rope grasped tightly in one hand, Tora edged sideways along the limb. She did not think the leopard would stay for long. It was below her now, large black head bowed towards the water, eyes closed as it drank. Tora lowered the noose with great care.

_It's not too late, you can still abandon this and get away without being seen. It's too dangerous. Just pull the rope back up gently. It won't know what you meant to do._

The voice in her own mind threatened to overrule her resolve, as a terrifying realisation of what she was doing – what she was about to do – clouded her mind with a freezing mist.

The noose hooked gently under the leopard's head. The animal felt it, growled and jerked backwards – pulling the noose tighter. Tora felt its strength threaten to drag her from her branch. She pulled hard, crying out in shock and amazement. The leopard was throwing its head from side to side and roaring, but the taught noose was squeezing its throat. Tora saw the flash of claws and teeth, and thought horribly of what would happen if she came within reach of them.

Knowing that the leopard's strength was far greater than hers, she quickly wrapped her end of the rope around the tree and pulled. The leopard was dragged towards her, thrashing about noisily, but less able to give voice to its distress. She saw its eyes – wide and desperate – the same colour and shape as Nanakeh's – and the leopard saw her and snarled, clawing at the choking noose.

_There's no going back now, you've got to finish it – and quickly. It's making too much noise._

She pulled again, trying to lift the leopard from the ground so that it would choke quickly or break its neck, but she didn't have the strength. She could see that it was dying slowly, and it was awful to watch. She couldn't bear it! Pulling in as much slack as she could, she tied the rope fast around the bough. Then she jumped down to the floor, landing in the stream, with the little knife in her hand.

The leopard was half-suspended in the air, only its back legs on the ground, scrabbling at its neck with the front ones. It gasped and choked, watching her from the corner of its eye. She saw fear there. She felt the handle of the knife in her hand, gripped it so hard her fingernails dug into her palms – but even though she was screaming at her limbs to take her forwards and get it over with, they wouldn't obey her.

_Just do it. JUST DO IT!_ _Come ON! Don't let it suffer more!_

She half closed her eyes and rushed forwards, thrusting the knife upwards as she felt herself fall against the beast's wet fur, felt its heat and its stench, and then hot blood spurting forth over her hands. The leopard shuddered, twisting a little against the rope and knocking her off her feet. She fell backwards into the stream with the beast above her. Then with a few choked, guttural sounds it went limp, tongue lolling from its jaws.

For a few short moments Tora lay there gasping in the stream, her vision cloudy and blood pumping in her ears. Now that the body was still, she suddenly felt the enormity of what she'd done. Minutes before, the creature above her had been walking through the night-jungle on its way to hunt, and now by her own hand it hung dead by its neck, the life within it extinguished and never to return.

She felt pain in her arm, and when she touched it she realised that the skin was torn and bleeding. It must have been the leopard's claws, but in the rush of the moment she had felt nothing. Now, she saw that it was deep and bleeding freely, so she cut a strip from her shirt and tied it tightly using her spare arm and her teeth.

The rain was now torrential. As the adrenaline ebbed away she began to shiver, and climbed from the stream with chattering teeth. The leopard's body swung gently on the end of the rope, and the hissing of rain falling on leaves drowned out all other sound, and she noticed that it had been a male leopard after all. _Had been_.

Tora climbed into the tree to untie the rope, but had to cut it free as the leopard's thrashing had pulled the knot too tight to release, and her injured arm ached too much to work it free. The body fell into the stream with a _splosh_. Climbing down, she attempted to carry it away but it was too large and heavy, causing her to slip in the thickening mud. She dragged it a little way outside of the clearing, but knew she'd be unable to carry it all the way back to the trading post.

Tora put her face in her hands. It felt like all her strength had suddenly gone. She had a vivid image of being tucked up in her bed at home, dry and warm, and safe, a kiss from her mother upon her forehead. There was an ache deep in her chest. She drew her knife.

She had never skinned an animal before. She'd listened to hunters at the trading post talking about it many times. She'd listened to their descriptions with morbid fascination, and was sure that she knew what needed to be done.

As it turned out, it was much more difficult than all that.

It took enormous strength and a lot of time to peel the skin back from the carcass below. The sound it made turned her stomach, as did the sight of the flayed body below. It was far more tricky than they'd made out, to know where to cut the hide so that it could all be removed in one piece. The unfamiliar stink of raw flesh made her retch. She was covered with blood, and as the rain poured down and drenched her she realised that she was crying uncontrollably.

As the milky light of pre-dawn began to permeate the dense foliage, she finally finished the job. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep, and forget all about what she had just done. But it was not safe for her there, and besides the smell of meat would attract attention in the heat of the day.

She buried the leopard's remains, not feeling right just to leave it out in the open - but she could do little more than carve a hollow for it and then cover it with leaves, as she was utterly exhausted. Then, finally, she rolled up the heavy black skin and carried it away, travelling just far enough away from the leopards' borders to find somewhere secluded.

There, among the exposed roots of an enormous tree, she finally felt safe enough to curl up and pass out.


	9. Chapter 9

Tora awoke when sunlight crept over the roots of the tree to fall across her face. She lay still, squinting curiously around at the unfamiliar setting. The rain had stopped. All she heard was the familiar calls and answers of birds, and the rustle of gently swaying branches. Then a heaviness settled upon her chest, and she remembered how she had come to be there. She remembered what she had done.

Pushing herself up, she was both relieved and revolted by the sight of the undisturbed pelt folded carefully on the ground beside her. The blue-black fur was silky and soft. The skin of the head still looked like a face, but a face that was all wrong – empty holes where the eyes had been, and the mouth all stretched out like a maniacal grin. The ears, still intact, just served to emphasise the strangeness. Feeling sick again, she tucked the horrible face away inside the folded fur.

She felt hungry – starving, in fact – and her head pounded from dehydration. From the direction and nature of light pin-pricking the layers of canopy above, she judged it to be late afternoon.

_Late afternoon. Late afternoon when? I can't have been asleep for more than twelve hours, can I?_

Tora realised that at the very least, it was more than twenty-four hours since she'd last seen her parents. They would definitely have noticed her absence by now. Even despite the argument, she knew they'd be worried about her. Looking for her. What would they think of her now?

She looked down at herself – covered in mud and blood – both hers and the leopard's. She realised that even if she threw away the skin and washed herself and her clothes, she could never go back now. She could not change or erase what she had done. She had sought out and killed another animal, neither for food or self-defence, nor any other provocation. She was a killer now, the very thing her father had spent his life protecting their home from. He would never forgive her, never be able to look at her the same way again. And, neither would she.

An image of her mother's face - soft and beautiful, but full of pain and anguish - filled Tora's imagination. It was the way she had looked after Tora's baby sister had been lost. The moment her mother had given up hope of ever finding her, and she had screamed and collapsed, while they had been at the trading post. The loss of a child.

Tora was already lost. Unable to bare it, she forced her mother's image from her mind, and focused on what to do next.

_Find some water. Drink, and wash yourself. Get yourself and the leopard skin to the trading post. Find Alistair Brodie. Leave, before they find you._

Tora tucked the folded leopard skin under her arm, and clambered onto her shaking limbs. She was weak, and hungry, but told herself that the most important thing was to finish the deed she had started. She found her bearings, and headed off on foot.

Upon finding the great river which lead to the trading post, she stripped to her waist and cleaned herself and her clothes. She removed the tourniquet and inspected the slash in her arm made by the leopard's claws. Though the pressure of the bandage had stopped the bleeding, she could see that it probably needed stitching in order to heal cleanly. For the time being, she washed it carefully and re-dressed it with a clean strip cut from her tattered shirt.

The sun was low and the sky blood-red by the time she came in sight of the trading post. She felt great relief that soon she'd be able to get some food inside her, to stop the horrible trembling in her arms and legs. Dumont wouldn't be pushy about questions. Then she'd find out where Alistair Brodie was, and she'd be able to show him the leopard skin, and that would stop him laughing.

_He didn't think I could do it, didn't think I was capable of such a thing. Nobody did. Now they'll see, and he'll have to keep that promise. He won't laugh at me any-more._

She had no-more warning that she wasn't alone than a slight rustle of leaves, and then a body dropped with silent agility into her path. Tora stumbled from surprise, dropping the fur as she fell backwards onto her hands, and looked up in horror.

Standing before her was her father.

He looked at her, expression unreadable – first her face, and her ragged appearance, then her bandaged arm…and then the leopard skin, which had unfolded when it fell down in the path beside her. His countenance became grim.

"_Do you have any idea what you have done? Do you understand the danger you have put our family in?"_

It did not sound like him. His tone was calm but full of menace, and Tora felt her blood freeze in her veins.

"Wh…what?"

"_Why_ did you do this, Tora? I came here expecting to catch a hunter, but instead…_you…_" His teeth were clenched and bared, but there was something else beneath the fury, something that scared Tora even more. She saw _pain_ there. He was _pleading_. "_Why, _Tora?"

"There was a hunter…he told me…he said he could take me away from here. You wouldn't let me, so…I found my own way. Dad, I –"

He stepped towards her and bent so that his face was suddenly close to hers. She shrank back. He was shaking now, eyes wide, fists clenched tightly.

"There is a truce between the leopard tribe and the gorilla tribe. Ever since your mother took in that cub and then returned it to its family there has been an agreement between us - that they will never hunt the members of our family, and so _I_ will never harm _them_, nor let any other humans harm them. By doing this thing you have broken that truce. Have you understood _nothing_ of what your mother and I have taught you!?"

"But…they don't know I did this…I'm sorry-"

"_Yes_, they know, Tora. They came to our home this morning and said that they had found the remains of one of their tribe, that the body had been mutilated and defiled, and that as it had been an old enemy of mine they believed that _I_ was responsible. The leader of the leopard tribe said that such an act showed a clear disregard for the truce between our tribes, and that the perpetrator _must_ face justice. Of course I did not believe that anyone from our family could have done this…_this_…_thing_…so I came here to catch the murderer before they could leave the area. But…_you…_"

"Dad…I'm sorry…I…I'm _sorry_…"

He looked away from her. Hot tears brimmed up and ran down her face, and she rubbed them away, _wishing_ he wouldn't look like that. So _disappointed_.

"Tora. You have put our family in grave danger by choosing to do this. You _must_ take responsibility for the actions you chose." He sighed heavily, looking so unlike himself. He took hold of her arm - still not looking at her - and gathered up the forgotten fur with his other hand. "Come with me."


	10. Chapter 10

Tora's father led her deep into the jungle.

Her mother, who had been waiting inside the trading post, accompanied them. She had not said anything when Tora and her father had met her at the door – the communication had been wordless, as Tora stood with downcast eyes, and her father had shown her mother the leopard skin. Tora could not look at her mother's face, couldn't bear to see what would be shown there; shock, sadness, anger? Disgust? Tora had kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

Now, the fading of the evening's light was accelerated by their descent into the deepening jungle strata. Despite the oppressive gloom, Tora sensed what the direction was, and furthermore, the destination. Fear swirled like a cold mist in her mind.

_Please…please don't make me…_.

She had a great urge to run, but she could never outstrip her father's pace through the trees.

He led them over a rocky ridge and they began to descend into the valley. There could be no doubt now in Tora's mind. He was taking them straight into the centre of the leopards' territory. She began to tremble, and wrapped her arms tight around herself.

Then, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and steeled herself to turn and look at her mother. When their eyes met, it wasn't anger or disappointment that Tora saw there. It was _fear_. She realised that her mother was as frightened of her father's aberrant mood as she was.

Fearful as a little girl, Tora reached for her mother's hand. She took it, and gripped it tightly. Then, the dense canopy suddenly opened out to reveal a starry sky, and the bright moon which illuminated the scene. The foot of a rugged cliff-face formed a wall before them, and every ledge, shelf and branch was completely covered with leopards.

Tora heard her mother's breath catch in her throat, and the grip of her hand tightened. Tora shrank back against her, under the malevolent glare of several-dozen green flashing eyes. She saw her father step forward, gaze roving slowly over the many leonine faces that surrounded him. Finally, he spoke.

"Lakadema?"

None of them moved. Then, into view, from a cave in the cliff high above him, stepped a large yellow leopard. Tora gasped.

_Nanakeh?_

But a moment later she saw that it was not him, though the resemblance was striking. This leopard was much larger – larger than most of the rest, she realised. It sat, framed in the threshold of the stone opening, looking itself like a statue – all curved lines, and face in elegant profile, lifted towards the moon. Then, it turned its gaze towards them. It spoke.

"_Tarzan, leader of the gorilla tribe. Have you done the thing you had promised me you would do? Have you found the one responsible for the death of one of our number?"_

Though the melodious tone was so similar to Nanakeh's, it was obviously female. She was speaking in the language of the gorilla tribe, and the words sounded like a song, though the effect was not soothing. It set Tora's nerves to prickling.

"I have." His tone was low, quiet.

"_And is this a human hunter, not – as you claimed it would be – a member of your tribe?_"

"…No. She is from my tribe." Even more quietly. He raised his eyes slowly to meet those of Lakadema. "She is…my daughter."

There was a murmer of hushed voices between the leopards surrounding them. Some hissed threateningly, and others growled – a high, unearthly sound. Tora felt her mother's arms encircle her, pulling her close, protecting her from the implicit threat. She wanted to scream.

Lakadema just stared down. Her tail twitched into a rolling and unrolling curl, and she seemed to be contemplating what Tora's father had said. Eventually, she spoke again.

"_If what you say is true, then the matter is more serious even than I had first thought. But – pray, tell me how this could have been accomplished by one so young, and seemingly without even the means to carry out such an act. How can it be so?_"

All about was silent. It wasn't until Tora's father turned to face her - and with a grim expression indicated that she was required to speak - that Tora was able to find her voice.

"I…I used a rope. A rope and a branch…I…d-dropped a noose around his head, and then I pulled…and then…I used my knife…" She trailed off. Unable to keep Lakadema's piercing gaze, nor endure her father's expression of disgust, she looked to the dirt at her feet.

As if he thought anyone around could still be in any doubt, Tora's father held up the leopard skin, and then cast it to the ground before them so that all could see. The hissing and shrieking grew once more, and many green eyes leered at her with butcherous intent. Lakadema stood up in one fluid movement.

"_You must explain. Pray, explain._"

To Tora's surprise, she heard her father's voice – strong and steady – rise in response above the leopards' malicious babble.

"My daughter's actions were motivated by selfishness, and thoughtlessness. She does not yet fully understand the ways and rules of our home. But this is because she is a child, she did not understand what she did, and that means that _I_ am the one responsible. _I_ must be the one to pay for this crime."

He took a step forward and drew himself up to his full height, returning Lakadema's steady glare. She did not blink, but again contemplated his words carefully before speaking.

"_Your daughter is not so young, Tarzan of the gorilla tribe. If she has killed one of us who live in the jungle neither for self-defence nor food, then she is already practicing the ways of human hunters. You swore to us, as a condition of our truce, that you would keep human hunters out of our jungle. Now, your own daughter has become one of them. She must be the one to answer for what she has done. She must answer to our council._"

There was a hissing, growling snarl of approval from all the leopards. Lakadema turned and began to make her way down from the cave opening. Tora's mother held her tighter, and put a beseeching hand on her father's shoulder.

"No! Tarzan we can't let her do this by herself. _Please_…_please,_ what if they decide to –" her mother broke off, voice strangled by her own horror. Her father turned to them, his grim expression unyielding.

"You know this must be done, Jane. You know there is no other way. We _must_ protect our family!"

"_She_ is your family, Tarzan! _She_ is your _daughter!_ Can't you see that? We have to protect her!"

"Dad, _please…_I'm scared. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm _scared. Please, don't make me._"

Her father looked at her. His expression was sad, but set.

"Lakadema is right, Tora. You were right. You're not a child any more. You've got to take responsibility for your choices, for the sake of your family. Come on."

He prized Tora's mother's arms from around her body, and pulled her away. Her mother shook her head and murmured _no, no, no,_ but she did not fight him. With a gentle insistence, he steered Tora around and forward in-front of him, and towards Lakadema who now stood in the center of the clearing.

Tora's legs felt like they would buckle. The leopardess was so big, and the moonlight glinted off her jagged white teeth and half-sheathed claws. It made her emerald-eyes glow as she stared coolly into Tora's. She noticed that they were accentuated by an elegant white stripe below each dark-rimmed lid.

"_What is your name, daughter of the gorilla tribe?_"

"T-Tora." She tried to stand up straight and face Lakadema as her father had done, but she could feel herself trembling.

"_Tora. You must face the council of leopards alone, without your father's help. Despite what I have said, he still means to be the one to make remuneration for your actions. But he must trust in my judgment._" As she said this last, her gaze shifted from Tora's face to her father's. He still had a hand firmly upon her shoulder.

"I may not agree with the judgment you make, Lakadema. You must allow me to stay by her side until we are all agreed." His grip tightened a little, and Tora's felt her terror ebb somewhat. Lakadema took a step towards them, calm, but her lip curled back a touch revealing the glistening daggers beneath.

"_I do not believe that you will agree with any judgment I make, Tarzan of the gorilla tribe. That is why I demand that you do as I say, and observe the rules of this council. Now, go – back to your mate, and await my judgment. I will not consent to do this any other way._"

The grip remained upon Tora's shoulder. But to her horror, a moment later it was released. She turned and watched in disbelief as her father stepped slowly backwards from the clearing. When he reached her mother's side, he stopped, then gave Lakadema a curt nod. He did not meet Tora's pleading gaze, only put his arm about Tora's mother, whose face was as pale as the moon.

Lakadema made a snarling sound, and Tora cried out softly and whipped back around to face her. All of the leopards that had been glaring down at them from their many perches now climbed to the ground and formed a large circle around Tora and Lakadema. The curve of the cliff made the place seem like an amphitheater. A smaller group of leopards surrounded Tora's parents, snarling threateningly at them to make it clear that they were not to try to move.

Over the murmurs, the gentle hissing and spitting of the leopards, Lakadema then spoke to Tora.

"_Tora of the gorilla tribe, you are here to answer for the crime of the murder of a member of the leopard tribe. Can you deny culpability for this act?"_

"…No." She tried to control the shaking in her voice.

"_Can you justify this act, either in self-defense or any other reason that would not be murder?"_

"I…" She swallowed hard, breathing deep and slow. "I…no. I can't."

"_The truce between our tribes means that we will never attack anyone from your tribe, and our own laws prevent us from seeking out humans and attacking them, but we will always try to kill a hunter if they choose to strike one of us first._"

"No, please!" Tora wrapped her arms around herself and covered her face, shaking violently. She heard the sound of her father's voice call out over the approving din made by the leopards.

"Such a thing would mean war between our tribes forever, Lakadema! And what do you say to the fact that two from your tribe – Nuru and Sheeta – sought out me and my family and tried to kill us many times after we made our truce – even until your tribe left this jungle!? How did you judge _their_ crimes!?"

"_And did you ever question _why_ they did that, Tarzan of the gorilla tribe?_" Lakadema's glare snapped from Tora's face to her father's, as she paced back and forth. "_Did you not wonder if there was a reason that they sought you out particularly? It was because you were responsible for the death of Sabor – _their_ mother."_

"You _know well,_ Lakadema, that Sabor was the most feared enemy of my tribe, who took the lives of many of my family. I fought and killed her defending them. Nuru and Sheeta –"

"_Nuru and Sheeta lost their mother before we made our truce, yes, Tarzan of the gorilla tribe. But_ _the loss of one's mother always leaves a great wound in one's heart. Now, I punished them in the way I saw fit, but I took into account the loss they had suffered. In the end, I saw that Sabor's children could not forget the bitterness of the loss in their hearts, and that is part of the reason I led my tribe out of this part of the jungle._"

She lashed her tail back and forth, betraying the turbulence that raged beneath her calm exterior.

"_After all this time, when I made the decision to return to our old home, they promised me that for the sake of our tribe they would no longer seek out your family. And - Tarzan of the gorilla tribe – did they not keep their promise?_"

Lakadema glared at Tora's father, eyes flashing, black lips curled back in a livid snarl. Tora turned to see how he would reply, but he did not. He just stood there beside her mother, staring down the leopardess with clenched fists and set jaw. Finally, though, he broke the gaze and looked downwards. His head inclined to give the smallest nod of acknowledgement.

Then, to Tora's surprise she heard her mother's voice ring out boldly across the assembly.

"Lakadema, what about your son whose life I saved and then restored to you. Will you not show the same mercy to _my_ child? _Please_."

Despite her fear, Tora's eyes widened in surprise. She understood the implicit meaning in her mother's words as she recalled what Nanakeh had said to her about his mother, and that it had been her gratitude for the safe return of her son that had prompted the truce between the two enemy tribes.

Lakadema was regarding Tora's mother with a gaze that betrayed careful contemplation. The leopardess was completely still, but her tail twitched back and forth in ever-inverting question marks.

"_I will never forget the kindness shown to me by you, Jane of the gorilla tribe, for taking in my son when he was snatched by baboons, and for meaning to raise him as your own. Neither will I forget that you risked your own life just to return him to his tribe. He still thinks of you as his second mother._"

Tora searched the ranks of leopards with her eyes, trying to see if Nanakeh was among them – half hoping to see him, half wishing she wouldn't, not wanting to see what he thought of her. He considered her his sister, but she had not behaved like one. She thought she saw him sitting at the back behind rows of black and spotted bodies, but she could not be sure.

"_However, there is no debt between us due to the truce between our tribes. I promised that your family would no longer need to fear leopards, and I did much to keep that promise. _Much_ that made life most difficult for me and my tribe._"

"That truce was mutually beneficial to both of our tribes, and you know it Lakadema!" Her mother's voice rose up still louder and clearer, and Tora almost did not recognize it for the determination its tone.

In recent years she had seen her mother as having become being frail and docile, without the spirit to fight anything or anyone that beleaguered her. Now, in the moonlight and surrounded by leopards she was completely transported.

"And how can you contemplate a price for the life of your son. Is there anything you can think of that would be worth the loss of it? Consider _that_ before you deprive _me_ of the life of my daughter – my _only child_."

Her voice cracked a little, but her stance remained the same – standing tall in front of her husband, fists clenched at her sides, teeth bared in a grimace, and staring straight into Lakadema's eyes.

The voices of the other leopards rose to a hissing babble. Tora could feel the rank smell of so many jostling bodies sting the back of her nose. They were half of them speaking their own language, and half the language of her own tribe. There were shouts of "_Rip her throat out Lakadema!", "Snap her neck!" _and_ "Put out one of her eyes, Lakadema!_"

Upon hearing these demands, Tora fell to her knees in terror and covered her face.

"No, please don't! Please, don't hurt me! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I did! Please, _please, please don't!_" Her wailing was mostly drowned by the rising shouts and jeers of the leopards. She could feel Lakadema's serene presence before her. Tora knew that she was considering what they all were saying.

"_I have made my decision, Tora of the gorilla tribe. Stand now and accept my judgment._"

"No!"

"NO!"

She heard her parents' shouts pierce the feline din. Trembling, Tora slowly withdrew her hands from her face and looked at Lakadema, but she could not stand – her legs would no longer hold her.

There was a flash of yellow, a glint of silver, and Tora screamed as she felt the slam of Lakadema's body hit her at full speed, and a hot slash of pain across her left eye. She was knocked flat over backwards, clutching at her eye and screaming and screaming. She could feel hot blood trickling through her fingers and down her arms, and she saw nothing but red.

_I'm blind, I'm blind, I'm blind_.

Through her terror she was dimly aware of shouts and screams, the goading growls and hisses of the leopards, and then she recognized Lakadema's own snarl, and a moment later she felt strong arms around her, and soft, trembling hands upon her face.

"Tora, Tora, Tora…" Her mother's voice, shaking uncontrollably.

She felt gentle but insistent fingers prizing her hands from her face.

"L-let me see your eye, d-darling." The same shaking tone.

Blood was dripping into Tora's mouth, a hot, metallic taste and she gurgled as another scream caught in her throat from the renewed searing of the pain across her face. She could feel her mother's fingers pinching and prodding, then a tearing sound and the feeling of cloth dabbing at her skin.

"Open your eye. I need t-to see."

"_N-no, I can't, its-_"

"Open your eye, B-Balu. Let us see. Come on." Her father's voice, quiet, but she could still hear its quaking.

She took a deep breath and held it. She tried to lift the throbbing lid. Blood rushed in immediately, but she felt the cloth again pressed to the edge of her eye. She tried again. Through the crimson blear she saw the pale faces of her parents bending over her, eyes wide with fear and concern.

"I…I _can_ see…is…how is my eye?"

Her mother peered closer.

"I think it's alright, d-darling. It's your face that's cut. _Thank God_." Her mother pressed the bunched cloth over the eye and pressed down. Tora felt her father's arms tighten around her, pressing her head against his chest, and her mother kissed her forehead. "You're not dead. You're not dead. Thank God. Thank God."

The tone of the many leopards' voices had turned from triumphant to murderous. Tora heard different voices shouting, "_She should die!_", "_The killer should be killed!_", "_You should take _both_ her eyes for what she did to Sheeta!_"

Lakadema stalked back and forth before them and roared and snarled until they were quiet. Through her untouched eye Tora saw the leopardess turn to face her and her parents.

"_Tora of the gorilla tribe, I have placed a mark upon you that will ensure you never forget the lesson your parents could not teach you. I have seen much of humans and their destructive ways. In my life, and in my time as leader of this tribe I have seen many of my fellow leopards hunted and killed by them, and we have been driven out by them as they move deeper and deeper into our jungle territories. The jungle is becoming smaller. We are not like other leopards. We understand that as our home begins to change, cooperation between tribes has become crucial, for we alone understand the truth - that in order for any of us who live here to survive, we must _all_ survive._"

She paused, turning her face up to the moon with closed eyes. All around her the members of her tribe bared their teeth and thrashed their tails, but they remained in their place, awaiting her next words. Tora could feel the fast beating of her father's heart through his chest, and the blood that was soaking through the cloth-compress, and her own pulse throbbing along the gash in her face, but she was equally transfixed by the control Lakadema appeared to assert over the livid assembly, and could do nothing but watch and wait. Finally the leopardess turned back to them and continued.

"_I fear my leopards have forgotten that Tarzan of the gorilla tribe is dangerous as well, for he understands both the ways of the jungle and the ways of men. The Allomother spoke truthfully – that the truce between our tribes offers equal protection on both sides. Men are dangerous, indeed, but they can also be merciful. They are fickle, and so leopards can be fickle too. Tarzan and the gorilla tribe should remember the mercy of leopards from this day, in the face of a weeping child and a pleading mother. I have spared your life, Tora of the gorilla tribe, on the condition that you learn your place in the jungle and respect it. You must assist your father, and do all you can to protect our home from humans._"

Lakadema had fixed Tora with her penetrating gaze. What she had said was not a request, it was a command. Before Tora could find her voice, however, a black leopard broke from the ranks and leapt in front of Lakadema. Its head was bowed but its tail lashed back and forth, and it snarled and spat, glaring into the leader's eyes.

Lakadema's manner changed immediately. All the hairs along her neck stuck straight up and her back and tail arched. Tora heard her father mutter "_Nuru…_". Lakadema's eyes were wide and flashing, and her lips peeled fully back into a snarl, displaying a pearlescent row of glistening fangs.

She towered over the black leopard, but it stood its ground. The hissing and growling went back and forth between them, and Tora realized that they were speaking – but the language was not one she understood.

"Dad…w-what's happening?" Tora looked up through one eye to her father's face. He was watching the unfolding interaction, heavy brows pressed into a deep frown.

"It's Nuru, Sabor's daughter. She…isn't happy with Lakadema's decision."

Tora watched as Nuru, ears pressed flat against her skull, finally relinquished her position and backed slowly into her place in the circle. The general clamor had risen again, and Lakadema snarled and shouted over all of them.

"_Am I not your leader? What gives any of you the right to contest my judgment? QUIET!_"

To Tora's amazement, they all shrank back a little and the noise became subdued. Lakadema turned back to face Tora and her parents once more.

"_The truce between the leopard tribe and the gorilla tribe will be upheld. However, Nuru has now lost both her mother and her brother to Tarzan's family. She is not satisfied by my decision, which I will not change. She may decide to seek her own revenge upon the gorilla tribe – even though the penalty for such an act will be death, dealt by her own tribe. I cannot force her to obey me, but I will uphold the conditions of our agreement. Now, go – and see that all the members of your tribe understand what took place here tonight._"

Without anyone passing further comment, Tora's father lifted her up in his arms, and the three humans swiftly left the presence of the leopards' council.


	11. Chapter 11

A week later, Tora sat on the edge of the veranda with her legs dangling over the edge, swinging gently in mid-air. It was mid-morning, and the sun shone gently on her bare skin from a serenely blue sky. All around was peaceful but for the familiar refrain of birds' song, and the muted hiss of leaves rustling in the breeze.

Tora lifted her hand to touch the side of her face – an action that was becoming a subconscious habit – and ran her finger along the angry-red line of her partly-healed wound. It started at her temple, then traced a diagonal line right to the corner of her eye. There, it cut across her lower eyelid, and finished at the bridge of her nose.

After they had left the leopards' territory, Tora's parents had carried her straight through the inky jungle and down to the trading post. There, they had roused the resident doctor and besought him to tend immediately to her injuries. He did not protest at the unreasonable hour, and began working with his nightwear on under his doctor's coat; carefully inspecting the slashes, confirming the eye itself was uninjured, cleaning, stitching and dressing the wounds.

He also treated the older gash in Tora's arm – which he cleaned with extra care as he said that there was a greater risk that the flesh may have started to putrefy. She was so delirious by that point that she did not remember much of what happened. What she did remember was that when the doctor told Tora's parents that he would use maggots to clean inside the wound as a measure to prevent blood poisoning, Tora's father began to weep and covered his face with his hands. She had never seen him cry like that – not since the vain search for her lost baby sister.

After that, her parents took her home and she slept for two days – waking only to eat a little, and for her mother to check the progression of her fever, or to change the dressings.

On the second day her fever broke, and she started to recover. Her mother never left her side, and her father did only to attend to his duties as leader of the gorilla tribe. When he was around he avoided looking at her face. Tora stayed away from the washroom mirror, in case she too would be appalled by what she saw there.

Now, a week after the ordeal she was sitting quietly in the morning sunshine, recuperating.

Her mood was generally subdued. The time spent confined at home had left her a lot of space to dwell on the recent events. Spending all of her time looking in on herself made her feel strange and hollow.

Her mother came out of the house with a sliced mango on a plate, and sat beside her. Tora turned her face towards her and returned her soft smile.

"How do you feel, darling?"

"I'm okay. Thank you."

Tora took the plate. Her mother touched the top of her head gently, and stroked her hair. Though Tora was looking down at the slices of mango, she knew her mother was regarding the line of sutures across her face. There would be a scar there, the doctor had said, but Tora knew this. That was why Lakadema had done it. A scar that would be visible to everybody she met, but especially every time she saw her own reflection. A reminder.

They sat together quietly while Tora ate. Then, as her mother squeezed her hand and began to get up, Tora voiced the thought that had been troubling her most.

"Mama…how can there be justice in the council showing mercy to me for killing one of their number, but then killing one of their own if _they_ kill someone from another tribe?" She turned to face her mother, who slowly sank back down into a seated position.

The expression on her face was contemplative. Tora thought that perhaps her mother had been expecting the question.

"Well…it does seem unfair on the face of it, I know. But do you remember what Lakadema said? Everything she did was to preserve the truce between our tribes, which is just as important to her as it is to us."

"But it seems…unbalanced. I took a life. All I got for that was a scratch." She lifted her hand up to her face, then realised what she was doing and let it drop. Her mother's eyes shifted sideways.

"Yes. It does. But she chose to be merciful."

"Because she is a mother, and so are you, and she didn't want to take your child from you?"

"Yes."

"But I killed Nuru's brother. Dad killed her mother. I don't know if it was Lakadema's right to choose to be merciful to me. Or, you."

"…Perhaps. I don't think Lakadema wanted to kill you, darling. You see, your father killed Nuru's mother, Sabor, but Sabor had killed many gorillas, _and_ your grandparents before that. The truce was made to stop the succession of killing for another killing…at some point it just has to stop."

Tora looked out over the undulating sea of green leaves.

"But if Nuru decides to kill me, Lakadema will kill _her_."

Tora's mother flinched.

"Yes. It does seem unfair. Remember that the leader of a tribe must take politics into consideration as well as justice, especially when a decision affects the wellbeing of the whole tribe. Your father has learned this too." She smiled softly.

"So…she decided not to kill me because of politics?"

"I think…that she decided more good would come from sparing your life than from taking it."

"Mama," Tora turned to face her mother once more, "you were so brave, the way you spoke to Lakadema. You were incredible."

"I wasn't brave, darling. I did the only thing I could have done. _You_ were brave. I…you shouldn't have had to face her alone." Her eyes seemed to shimmer a little.

"It's okay Mama."

Tora put her arms around her mother and kissed her cheek. They held each other close for a long time. Tora could sense that her mother was crying. She squeezed her more tightly.

When they parted, Tora's mother went back inside the house. Tora stayed where she was, brooding over about justice and politics.

A little while later Tora's father emerged from the jungle and crossed the long rope bridge to the veranda. She did not look at him, though she knew he would come to sit with her. Even though they would talk, he would never look at her face.

Sure enough, he folded his legs and sat by her right side – the one that was unscarred.

"How are you Balu?" His tone was soft and even. She didn't turn her face, just kept looking straight outwards.

"I'm okay Dad."

They sat together in silence. Slightly awkwardly, Tora swung her heel slowly against the underneath of the veranda. The sun was climbing higher in the bright cerulean sky, and Tora raised her hand to her forehead to shield her face as the shadows of two darting birds passed over her. The light refracting through her diamond pendant caught her father's eye, and he smiled, reaching over to gently brush the chain with his fingertips.

"I'm glad that chain has lived up to its promised strength. It's good to see you wearing it."

"I'm...very fond of it. It was a very special present."

She touched the diamond heart – warm, and smooth – and turned her head to face her father. His smile slipped, and he dropped his gaze. Tora felt a pain in her chest. She drew her knees up close to her body and rested her chin on them.

"Will you ever look at my face again, Dad? I know it must look awful." Her tone was soft, almost a whisper.

He turned again towards her, his eyes were sad and wide.

"It's not that…you don't…it's just…I shouldn't have let this happen to you. I'm your father and I…I should have tried harder to negotiate with Lakadema. I shouldn't have left you there by yourself. And now…you're scarred, and you could have died from the wound in your arm, if the dirt had entered your blood. I saw you were injured when I found you near the trading post, and I should have taken you straight to the doctor but I didn't. I just…wasn't thinking properly."

Their eyes met, and this time he didn't look away.

"Tora…I'm sorry I lost my temper with you. I'm sorry I…hit you."

"It was nothing, Dad. I –"

"It wasn't nothing. I don't know why I was so angry over such a small thing. If I hadn't been so angry with you…if I hadn't…then you wouldn't have done what you did. None of this would have happened. It's my fault."

"Maybe, but I still had it in me to kill Sheeta, and I did that. I was thinking about myself. Now I know that what I did was wrong. I knew it…from the moment I did it. But it was too late then…"

Her father said nothing, but his eyes still surveyed her face carefully, as if he been wanting to do so but wasn't able to until this moment. She could see the pain he felt from what he saw.

"Dad…"

Tora reached into her pocket and took out the tattered, folded square of paper within. She smoothed it out with great care, as it was so worn along the folds that it was ready to fall apart.

"I wrote this…that morning at the trading post. It was the final version of my letter. Here –" she passed the paper to him, and he took it delicately between his large, worn fingers. He read it silently.

_Dear Mama and Dad,_

_I'm writing this letter to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Dad with what I said at breakfast. I didn't mean to hurt you either Mama. I'm sorry for what I said about Dad's family. Sometimes I don't think about things properly, and my idea was stupid. I just wish things were like they used to be, before Ellie. I miss her a lot. I know you miss her too. I know that is why Mama is always sad, and why you get much more angry now Dad. I wish I knew how to make it better. I miss how Dad and I used to play, and I miss Mama's laugh. I wanted to go away because I'm sad too. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Every day is the same, but each one is a little bit worse than the last. Though I know things can't go back to how they were, I want to tell you both that I love you._

The letter was unfinished.

"But now I know what I'm supposed to do." Tora spoke softly, looking sideways at the letter in her father's trembling hands. "I need to help you protect our home from people like me."

Her father turned, wordlessly, and put his arms around her. She returned the embrace. His body shuddered with heavy sobs, and she began to cry as well. She felt, though, that it was _his_ pain she wept for, and not her own. Something inside her was different now.

When they finally withdrew, Tora's father put his hand on her cheek and gently traced his fingers along the sutured wound. He told her that he loved her very much.

Later in the afternoon, Tora had a third and final visitor. Nanakeh stalked gracefully out over the rope-bridge and stopped at her side. There, in one flowing movement he stretched out his long, slender body across the sun-warmed floorboards, crossing his large fore-paws regally before him. Tora noticed that he twitched his tail in just the same way Lakadema did – a gently rolling and unrolling curl. She had not expected to see him.

"_How are your wounds, younger sister? They look quite well._"

Her mother had removed the sutures earlier in the afternoon, leaving a neat, angry red line cutting diagonally across one side of her face. She had been amazed by the careful deftness of her mother's hand. It had hurt very little. Tora sensed that something in her mother had changed too. She seemed more like she had once been; stronger, with greater vitality. When Tora had finally willed herself to look in the mirror, she'd had a sudden involuntary image of Lakadema, and the white stripes that accentuated her eyes – starting at the bridge of her nose, and ending with an graceful flick at the far corner, so characteristically feline. When her scars finally healed they would be white too.

"They are…thank you. Were…were you there the other night?"

"_I was._"

"Oh…"

Tora scratched the back of her head and felt uncertain. Nanakeh closed his eyes and tilted his head up towards the sun, evidently relishing the feeling of its warmth upon his face. His tail twitched contentedly.

"I'm…I'm surprised you've come to see me. I didn't think you'd want to know me anymore." She staring down into her palms which were spread open in her lap.

"_Why would I want to do that? You accepted my mother's judgement, and you are my sister!_"

"But I…killed one of your tribe."

"_Yes. But I trust in my mother's wisdom, and she decided on the right price to take from you. We leopards to not hold onto grudges for crimes which have been paid for._"

"I'm not sure if Nuru feels that way." She turned towards him. He did not move but opened one bright green eye and looked at her. He had his mother's manner of considering anything he said very carefully before saying it.

"_That is true._" He conceded. "_She was not satisfied with my mother's judgement. But my mother is the leader of our tribe, and Nuru understands the consequences that will follow if she decides to seek her own revenge. Whether Nuru decides that the price is worth the deed…in time, we shall see._"

"If you consider me to be your sister, won't you be upset if she kills me, or someone in my family?" Tora asked, incredulously.

"_Of course I will. But I believe that the price she will pay will be equal to the crime. My mother is very wise. You are my sister, but I have no right to meddle in any affair between you and Nuru._"

"I'm not sure I can rationalise things like that." She fiddled absently with her pendant and surveyed Nanakeh's serene countenance with wonder.

"_Then you must do whatever you feel you must do. But, you must understand the consequences before you do it._"

"Yes…that is true…"

"_I should like to call upon my human mother…is it she who is inside there?_" He turned his head around towards the doorway of the tree house.

"Yes. I'm sure that seeing you would make her very happy."

He bumped his head hard against her cheek as he got up, and she laughed and turned to watch him go. She thought about him and the un-emotional way by which he could rationalise her actions. She thought about Nuru, and whether she'd be able to sleep soundly knowing that the furious leopardess might choose any moment to strike - or none at all. She thought about the task Lakadema had charged her with – to protect the jungle and keep the humans away.

She thought about Alistair Brodie.


	12. Chapter 12

Silence is a very unusual thing in the jungle. Even when the air is still, the leaves will still inexplicably rustle with the life exuded by the trees. There will be the hiss of steam evaporating off foliage. There will be the scuttling of insects and the diverse whoops and calls of birds and monkeys. Most of the time, the jungle is deafening. Silence is a sign that all those birds and monkeys have their attention fixed on the same one thing. If you don't know what they are watching, then there is a good chance that whatever it is is watching _you_.

Tora pressed herself hard against the twisting tree trunk. She hoped that if she kept absolutely still that her heart would all but stop as well, or at the very least cease its noisome yammering. She could hear it so loud in her ears, and she could feel it throbbing along the scar on her face. In this silence it must sound like a drum beat to anyone or anything that might be listening. She curled her fingers tight into fists, until the nails dug into her palms.

The knowledge that she had willingly brought herself to this place made it all the more unbearable.

Unable to reconcile her guilt about Nuru and what Tora had taken from her, she had found herself wondering almost unconsciously closer and closer to the edge of the leopards' territory. She knew that her parents sensed her internal torment, but had bit-back any appeal they might have for her to stay home and keep out of danger.

But what had she even planned to do? _Talk_ to the leopardess? _Beg_ her forgiveness? Perhaps, but had she really thought it was anything but a stupid idea? Hadn't she seen the rage in Nuru's eyes when Lakadema released Tora with little more than a monition?

Not long after she'd slipped naively over the ridge of the valley and began her descent – unarmed and unprotected – into the leafy abyss, she had felt the hairs on her body stand on end as the noise level gradually dropped. Unseen eyes were upon her. There was a smell…which she couldn't place…but she knew that she didn't like, drifting delicately in the air.

Then, a small sound. It was quiet, yet sharp. A snapped twig? A footfall? A deliberate, careful footfall, if it was. That was when she froze.

_Was it a step? Maybe just a falling branch?_

She heard the sound again.

_It's a step. It's a step. Someone's here._

That was when she shrank back behind the tree, her blood pumping coldly.

She knew she couldn't escape. Leopards could climb trees faster than she could ever hope to. She couldn't out-run it. Her only hope was that it hadn't seen her.

_But it's stalking me. It knows I'm here._

She was sure she could hear breathing. No, she could smell it. She could feel it. Hot and stinking. The tickling feeling of it was as vivid as the rough tree bark scratching into her back.

What did she expect? She'd gone there to find Nuru. Instead, Nuru had found her.

Tora squeezed her eyes tight shut. Insanely, she thought that perhaps if she stepped out and revealed herself to the leopardess – if that was who it was – that she'd be able to talk reason into her. Did Nuru even speak the gorilla language? She wasn't sure.

_I might as well do it._

She tensed her muscles, but she couldn't move.

Another snap. Then a strange, unexpected sound. Something whipping through the air. A heavy metallic _clonk_. A snarling, spitting sound.

Tora kept quite still. There was the distinct sound of a heavy body thrashing about. More snarling and spitting.

_What?_

Then there was a new sound. Footfalls again, but no longer careful. They were loud and tramping. Human? There was that odd smell again.

Tora turned slowly to face the tree. She could climb it easily enough. It was rough and there were small branches she could grasp. She clambered up a little way, and then peered out carefully through two large forking limbs.

It was Nuru. Nuru black and shining, thrashing about in the undergrowth, hissing and spitting and shuddering. Then Tora saw it – the metal trap that had snapped tight around her paw. The leopardess roared and rolled about and pulled, but she could not get free. That smell was getting stronger now. The crashing footfalls had stopped.

Then Alistair Brodie emerged from the undergrowth. He had the same straw hat and the same overly-large clothes hanging off his thin frame. In one hand he had a rope, and in the other flashed a short knife. And then Tora realised that it was his smell – the one that had irked her when she'd met him at the trading post – that was pervading the air. He stood before Nuru, now crouched back low and growling, and rubbed the point of his knife with his index finger.

Tora was very still in her tree. She wondered what would happen next. She understood the basics of it. Brodie had laid a trap and Nuru had stepped in it, and now he was going to kill her for her fur.

Part of her felt relief. She had been spared the vengeful fury of Nuru's teeth and claws, and now Brodie would make sure she never had to worry about being ambushed in her bed by the leopardess. But – as she crouched there quietly, looking down on this scene with Nuru cowering and hissing, and Brodie fingering his glinting knife – she felt an acute sense of dread, too. This wasn't just. This wasn't fair. But what was she going to do about it? He was a tall, fully grown man with a knife and she was a skinny unarmed little girl. She couldn't imagine how she could stop him. She couldn't imagine how she'd dare try.

There was a rustle in the undergrowth to Nuru's left. Both man and beast turned instinctively to look. Two small forms emerged from the leaves. One yellow and spotted, one black. Leopard cubs. Very young. They seemed uncertain, their little round heads bobbing slightly as they looked back and forth between Alistair and Nuru, two pairs of wide bright green eyes looking scared. One gave a little mewling call. The trapped leopardess raised her own voice in a warning growl, but it was not the same angry sound that she had been making a moment before. It was more sorrowful.

_They're her cubs_.

The two little leopards padded over to their mother and tried to cower beneath her, but she had begun to thrash back and forth once more. Alistair Brodie had taken a step towards her. His arms were spread wide, fingers bending and unbending slowly, like he was trying to close them in. Tora could see his mouth stretched wide and teeth clenched together in a half grin, half grimace. He took the rope in both hands, which had been knotted into a noose at one end. He waited for the right moment, and as Nuru reared up at him with claws outstretched he threw the loop and tried to get both her head and paw through it. She twisted and he missed, but repositioned to try again, still grinning, face glistening with perspiration.

Tora felt a her piercing fear becoming crowded out by an intensifying fury. How dare he? How DARE he!? She felt a sudden surge of strength through her body, every muscle coiling in anger. Before she'd realised what she was doing, she had climbed out onto one of the forked tree limbs.

Brodie was just below her, but he was looking downwards, leering at the trapped leopardess, waiting for the right moment to pounce again. Tora gripped the branch she was on with both hands, then, jumping backwards with as much force as she could muster she used her arms to swing herself forwards, striking Brodie in the back.

The impact caused her to lose her grip on the branch and she fell, but the force of the blow had knocked the surprised Brodie forwards. He suddenly found himself within reach of Nuru's claws, and she swiped at him with her free paw, but he managed to roll out of the way. Stumbling to his feet, Brodie whipped around, searching for his attacker.

Tora was just a few feet away, only just having got back on her feet herself. She saw Brodie's eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise when he saw her, recognised her.

"It's ye!"

But then he bared his teeth and ran towards her, arms reaching out forwards, grasping. She was right in his path but the adrenaline surging through her body made her quick and nimble, and she leapt and caught the tree branch, pulling herself up over his head as his snatching hands reached for her. The tips of his fingers brushed past her, but she was out of his reach. She crouched there on the tips of her fingers and the balls of her feet, like a monkey, ready to react again.

"Yoo're deid!" Brodie hissed through clenched teeth, glaring up at her. He fed the noose some more rope and then with a sideways sweep of his arm made to throw it over her head. She ducked it with a jerk to the side. She could tell from the beastly glint in his eyes that he'd meant what he'd said. He tried again, and this time Tora caught the rope with both hands and with strength and balance previously unknown to her, deftly tugged the whole thing from his grip. He stumbled forwards and she quickly coiled the rope up so that she could hold it in one hand. Her heart was pounding, but her fear was gone. She was not afraid of pain or injury or death. She didn't think about them. The only thing in her mind was Brodie.

Snarling with fury, he made for the trunk of the tree, where he began to climb. He would soon have her cornered with no-place to run. But instead of backing away, Tora scurried towards him along the branch. She took the noose in one hand and dropped it neatly over his head, then pulled the loop closed.

Brodie gave a choked shout of surprise, and reaching instinctively for the rope around his throat he lost his grip on the tree and fell to the ground. Tora, who had been holding tight onto the other end of it was pulled from her branch. She fell head-first, but without even thinking she put her arms out in front of her and translated the ground-impact into a forward roll. The momentum of it brought her back to her feet. She immediately snatched up the rope she had dropped and pulled on it, digging her feet into the earth, astonished at finding herself unhurt.

Brodie was lying on the ground, face a deepening purple, guttural sounds issuing from his mouth as he scrabbled at his neck. Even as he choked, his eyes searched around for Tora, and when they found her the look of apoplectic rage in them almost made her take a step backwards from him. Instead she pulled, trying to figure out how she could incapacitate him.

_I can't kill him, but he'll kill me if he gets the chance!_

Tora tried to drag Brodie by the neck back towards the tree. Brodie rolled over and stumbled to his knees. He took a hold of the rope attached to his neck and heaved on it. Surprised, Tora strained against it but he was far stronger than she was, and she took a stumbling step towards him. The noose loosened a little, and a terrifying look of triumph spread across Brodie's purple face. He passed one hand over the other along the rope and heaved again, dragging Tora closer to him, to her dismay. He pulled himself to his feet. Closer and closer. She could see the yellow of his teeth, smell his repulsive stink. She was close enough that he grabbed her left arm and gripped it hard, pulling her towards him, leering victoriously into her face.

With one swift, curved motion of her arm, she grabbed the handle of the knife in his belt and brought it up to slash across his face. Brodie let go of her arm immediately and fell back. Tora stumbled backwards too, still clutching the knife.

"GNAAAAGH!" Brodie was pawing at his face and making animal-like sounds in his throat. He smeared the blood from his eyes, but as the cut had slashed diagonally from his right cheek to his left brow, the blood trickled straight back into the left eye. He bellowed with frustration, rubbing the eye with his wrist.

Tora stood and watched him, panting, waiting to see if he would try to attack her again. The short sharp knife was still gripped stoutly in her right hand.

Breathing raggedly, and in an effort to stop the maddening sensation of being blinded by blood, Brodie pressed one hand over his eye and pushed himself to his feet with the other arm. His right eye found Tora, and he bared his teeth, breathing hard and heavy, but he did not step towards her. She saw his free hand clenching and unclenching, betraying his desire to close it around her arm or her neck, but he did not move.

_Now what? Now what?_

Brandishing the knife, Tora took three abrupt steps towards him. He immediately took a step back. She grimaced, feeling a rush of savage triumph. Planting her feet wide, she raised herself to her full height and squared her shoulders.

"I'd get out of my jungle if I were you, before the smell of your blood brings you some unwanted attention."

Her voice had been quiet, almost a growl, but she knew he'd heard her as he narrowed his eye and clenched his jaw, though he stayed where he was. Then his pupil flickered a little from side to side, warily, then back to her. Her words had not been a simple empty threat. She took another step towards him, raising the knife and pointing it at him.

"And I'll know if you try to come back here. Anywhere you try to hunt I'll track you down and stop you. You won't find what you're looking for in my jungle. If I were you, I'd _get out_." She spoke the last two words slowly and deliberately. The knife still hovered in the air.

A few heartbeats passed between them, glaring hard at each other, their breathing gradually slowing. Then without a word, Brodie stepped backwards one step, then another, then another, then, casting one final filthy scowl at her, he turned and was swallowed up by the undergrowth.

She listened to his heavy footfalls crashing quickly away into the distance.

Tora stared at the spot where he had vanished, breathing deeply, muscles still tense as she marvelled at what had just come to pass. Her body did not feel the same. Her limbs felt stronger and lither, and she was acutely aware of her surroundings – the rough, damp feel of soil between her toes as she flexed them, and the smell of everything, from the fading tang of blood to the must of decaying flora – she could even taste them. The sensation was electrifying.

She turned, and there was Nuru, paw still held tightly in the mouth of the trap. She was sitting very still and watching Tora, ears flat against her head while her two cubs squeezed themselves up close to her, mewing quietly. Every few moments she gave a little flash of her bright white teeth, warning Tora off.

Tora approached her slowly. She was not keen to get too close to those teeth and claws. As she drew closer the leopardess snarled and lunged forwards. Tora recoiled, then remembered the knife in her hand and dropped it. She lifted her hands, palms facing forwards un-threateningly. She took another step closer. Nuru was clearly somewhere between fury and fear – a less than inviting combination.

Tora felt an uncomfortable surge of dread as she thought about the possible things that could happen if she set Nuru free. It seemed extremely likely that Nuru would waste no time in ripping her apart. On the other hand, if she just left her there then the leopardess or the cubs would likely fall prey to opportunistic baboons. She might even chew off her own paw to get free. Tora could not stomach either of these prospects.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to let you out. I need to get closer to your paw." She lifted her palms a little higher, and remembered that she wasn't even sure if Nuru understood the gorilla language. Nuru's ears were still pressed flat and her eyes were blazing, but she did not lunge at Tora again. Instead, a soft, rising hum issued from her throat.

Tora knelt slowly, still watching the leopardess closely for signs of attack. When none came, she dropped her gaze to the jaw-like trap that was closed around her paw. She didn't see blood. The trap was square and metal, but the jaws were covered with rubber – probably to reduce the damage inflicted on the fur. Tora saw how the release of two spring-loaded arms had forced the trap to snap shut. She would have to compress them in order to open the jaws.

She tried to do it with her hands, but it was impossible to operate them both simultaneously. The sudden surge of strength she had experienced a few moments before had faded.

_Now what?_

Remembering Brodie's rope, she retrieved it and tied it around one of the arms, dragging it closed by pushing down with her foot and then tying it fast. She paused before dealing with the second one. Her heart was beginning to race. In a moment Nuru would be free. After that, anything could happen.

_I've got to finish this._

Tora balled up her terror, and, teeth clenched tightly together, she compressed the second spring-arm. It was extremely stiff, but the jaws slipped open just enough for the struggling leopardess to wrench out her paw, leaping free of the trap just as it snapped closed again as Tora's efforts gave way. She too leapt backwards, scurrying crab-wise to put some distance between her and Nuru, who was now hissing and spitting and shaking her crushed limb in vexation.

Tora, heart pounding painfully, did not take her eyes off the leopardess. She had a strong urge to run away, but thought that would only induce a chase – one which she would definitely lose.

Nuru put her paw on the ground experimentally, lifting it and then pressing down on it. She licked it delicately. Then she turned her attention to her two small cubs who were pawing at her hind legs. She licked each of them as well. Then, she turned fully around and faced Tora, blazing eyes staring straight into hers. Tora swallowed hard.

She slowly, carefully, pushed herself to her feet. Her throat felt dry. Brodie's knife was well out of reach. She had no way to defend herself. She tried to breathe deeply, steadily. The leopardess just stood there, staring at her. Like she was waiting for something. What?

Unable to bare the sudden choking thickness of the air, Tora felt compelled to act first. If she was about to die, then she would at least say the words that she had come there to say – what had, after all, brought her to this point. She took a deep breath, but her throat was so dry she only squeaked. She swallowed, and tried again.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice shook a little, she could not keep the fear out of it. Nuru did not move, but just continued to stare at her. Tora stood a little straighter and clenched her fists to disguise the trembling. She swallowed again.

"I'm sorry for what I did. I just want the feud between our families to end. What I did was unforgivable, what I stole from you…but I can't change what's already happened."

The leopardess still just stood there, regarding her steadily. Tora wondered wildly whether she even understood what she had said.

"Please…what will it take to make this all stop? Just tell me!" Tora looked down at her hands. The same hands that had pulled a rope tight around a leopard's neck, and plunged a knife into its heart. She thought about her mother, and saw a horrifying image of her lying on the ground with her throat ripped out – and then another the same of her father. She thought of any of her gorilla family ambushed in the night and dragged away, leaving no sign behind but their own shed blood. She couldn't bear it.

She felt hot tears falling on her cheeks, but she lifted her voice up clear and strong. "If the price is my life…then you can take it. If it means you won't harm my family, then I won't fight you. I know that you are forbidden to kill me, but I believe that my parents will know why I came here. That I made this choice myself."

Her vision swam as a cold mist of panic clouded her mind. She felt as if she would fall down. She stumbled a little and steadied herself, trying to keep her eyes upon Nuru. The leopardess just watched her, very still, but there was something in the way that her tail twitched that told Tora that she was considering her words.

Then suddenly like a streaking shadow, Nuru rushed at Tora. Her scream caught in her throat as she saw the flashing of claws, the red-gaping maw, but she was frozen to the spot and could only shut her eyes and shield her face. The air was crushed from her lungs as the strong body collided with her own, knocking her flat on the floor. Gasping and numb with shock, she scrambled to her feet, just in time to see Nuru and her cubs disappear into the jungle. Their swift bodies were swallowed up in green, and then…silence.

Tora fell again to her knees. Her whole body shook. What happened? Where did she go? Tora glanced around fearfully, expecting the leopardess to spring out of the undergrowth and pounce on her. But as her hammering heartbeat counted out the long still silence, she slowly realised that that was it. It was over. It was finished.

Tora doubled over forwards and wretched onto the ground. As the saliva slid from her lips, she closed her eyes and just waited…waited…waited for the painful surge of adrenaline to subside.

She had done it…she had made it right…she had kept her family safe. Her penance had been served by repaying her debt to Lakadema after all. She had driven the hunter out of the jungle. She had saved Nuru and her cubs.

As the grip of fear about her limbs gradually loosened, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and – steadying herself with her hands on her knees – pushed herself to her feet.

As she reached her full height a shiver ran through her body. She felt her guts contract, and looking down she saw thick, dark blood slipping down the insides of her thighs for the very first time.

The sight of it made her sway alarmingly, but she understood what it meant; she had learned her place in the jungle. It was time to leave childhood behind.

_"Until the lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter."_

- African proverb


End file.
